


And I Hope That You'll Remember Me

by casti3l



Series: I See Fire [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Not Beta Read, Other, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 05, some fluffy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-03-31 04:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 383,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3964723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casti3l/pseuds/casti3l
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex lives a crappy life. She knows that. However, in the blink of an eye, she finds herself someplace else. A place where there are monsters, demons, angels, and, of course, hunters. With a head full of knowledge and no training, can she survive in the lifestyle of a Winchester? </p><p> </p><p>Starts at the very end of season 3, and goes through the end of 5. Each chapter is divided by episodes.</p><p>**Currently being rewritten so there may be a sudden drop in quality as you read**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fallen

**Demember 15th, 2013  
** **Chicago, Illinois**

**S** he was alone. The street was dark, lit only by the occasional streetlight, and snowflakes fell through the cold winter air, covering the ground. The young girl pulled her thin jacket tighter around her body, suppressing a shiver. She hated life, and she hated living like she did. They had fought again, and now she had been thrown out of the house for the night as punishment. She kicked at a loose stone, sending it clattering down the street. Stupid foster family. Like they gave a damn about her.

Suddenly there was light. A bright, blinding light that was gone as soon as it had appeared. Darkness surrounded the young girl as the ground vanished from beneath her feet, and the next thing she knew, she was falling.

She cried out in alarm, arms flailing desperately as the darkness parted, revealing quickly approaching ground. A dark road lay directly beneath her, and headlights of a single car could be seen speeding towards her. Before the girl could brace herself, it was beneath her. She hit the hood and rolled up the windshield, and then she was back in the air.

The air was forced from her lungs as she hit the pavement, and the world spun as her head cracked against the ground. She heard the car screech to a halt, and then there were voices of alarm, but they faded into the distance as blackness crashed over her, and the young girl spiraled into unconsciousness.

 

**May 10th, 2008  
** **Sioux Fall, South Dakota**

**D** ean Winchester adjusted his grip on the steering wheel of his beloved Impala as he guided it around a bend in the road. His eyes flickered over to the mile marker that was caught the glare of his headlights, and he nodded as he caught a glimpse of a dilapidated barn through the darkness. Not even the moon was out to shed its light on the countryside, but familiarity had left the Winchester knowing every dip and turn in the well-traveled road.

There was stirring in the seat beside him, and a rarely seen smile graced the eldest Winchester’s lips as he cast his brother a sidelong glance. After three harrowing days, Sam was finally sleeping, driven to the point of pure exhaustion. Three days of fruitless chases and sleepless nights, and for the first time, he looked peaceful. Relaxed.

Dean turned his eyes back onto the road. He knew he didn’t have much time left until his deal was up, but something about Sam’s final admittance that there was nothing left to try — his yielding to the inevitable, even if it was only for the moment — it somehow had given Dean the strength to carry on. It wasn’t Sam’s job to worry about him, after all. Dean could take care of himself. But he couldn’t stand to see his brother in distress.

There was a flash of light in the sky, as bright as lightning, and Dean frowned. The sky was clear — he could see stars sparkling faintly in the night above. He squinted as something in the air moved, and he leaned forward as he tried to make it out.

Then his eyes snapped open wide. It was a human, and it was headed directly towards the car. Before he could react, it crashed into the hood and rolled up the windshield. Dean slammed on the brakes with both feet as the glass shattered under the impact, and the Impala screeched to a violent halt. His brother braced himself against the dashboard, crying out in confusion and alarm, and Dean gripped the steering wheel even tighter, his knuckles white as his heart raced within his chest. A glance in the rearview mirror showed the outline of a small, unmoving body in the glow of the taillights. “What the hell?!” he yelled, and he threw open the car door and got out.

“What the hell happened?” Sam did the same, and Dean could hear the panic in his voice as his eyes found the still, frail human in the road. “You hit someone?”

“No!” Dean snapped, his own terror making him furious and defensive. “He — she — they fell from the sky!” He hurried over to the body of a young female, and he dropped down in front of her. He gently rolled her over to look at her face, and his hair stood on end as the girl stirred ever so slightly. Green eyes went wide as he looked up at his brother. “Dude, she shouldn’t be conscious,” he insisted, voice hoarse with disbelief as Sam joined him on the ground. “She fucking fell onto my car!”

 

 **S** omeone was yelling. Their voice rattled her bones, and the young girl let out a high-pitched whine as she was dragged from unconsciousness. She forced her eyes open to find two men leaning over her, their faces a mixture of confusion and pure panic. She blinked, and their features became clearer. And familiar. “W-What?” The girl’s eyes fell closed, and she did a mental check of her fingers and toes. They flexed under her command without any extreme pain, but her bones ached in a way she didn’t even think possible.

“Hey. Hey. Stay with me. Are you okay?” The voices were familiar too. Memories were slowly returning, trickling in at first and growing exponentially until they were rushing back into her mind like a tidal wave. “Hey!” The voice was still there. “What’s your name? Can you talk?”

The girl reopened her eyes. She knew those faces. “Uh … Alex.” Her voice caught in her throat, and the word came out more ragged and dry than she had anticipated. She stared up at the two, searching through her scrambled mind to try and place them. Who were they?

“Alex. Okay, okay. Good.” The speaker looked over at his companion, and he reached up to run a hand through his shaggy brown hair. “A-Are you okay?”

The faces snapped into place. “W-What?” Alex’s mouth went dry, and her grey eyes went wide as she looked between the two men.

“I said are you okay?” the man repeated, and hazel eyes sparkled in concern.

“Yeah, I-I heard you the first time.” Alex struggled to sit up despite the protest of her body, and she felt herself sway as the world around her spun. Hands on her shoulder steadied her, and the girl closed her eyes until the vertigo passed. “I’m fine,” she finally said, reaching up to push away the support. “Just … just a little sore, that’s all.”

She looked up to see that the two men were exchanging looks, a silent conversation passing between them in a matter of mere seconds, and she took the time to scrutinize the one on her left. Short, spiky brown hair, green eyes that were dark and guarded. He was wearing a army green jacket over a black t-shirt, and the collar was worn from years of use. She didn’t realize that she was staring until he cleared his throat. “What?”

“N-Nothing. Sorry.” Alex shook her head to clear her thoughts, and she immediately grimaced at the pain it brought. “You … you just look … familiar. Really familiar.”

The two exchanged looks once again. “From …?” the green-eyed one finally asked, and he let out a short burst of nervous laughter. “If it’s from the news, I can explain —”

“No, no.” Alex cut him off. “No, not from the news. From …” She narrowed her eyes, wanting to be sure. “From tv. You look like two actors from tv.” She carefully watched the two’s reaction. What were their names? Jared and Jensen? Alex’s gaze darted between the two — which one was which she could never keep straight.

“Oh.” Her answer surely seemed confusing, but there was relief in their eyes. “No, we’re not from tv.” The man pointed to himself. “My name is Dean, by the way. This is my brother, Sam.”

Alex stared up at him, and she snapped her jaw shut when she realized it was hanging open. “Winchester?” she finally asked, and she watched as the brothers’ eyes flashed with varying degrees of bewilderment and distrust. A sudden wave of nausea overtook her, and she fell back onto the ground, grunting in pain.

There was a rustling of clothing as Dean shifted warily. “You’ve heard of us?”

“In a way.” The young girl watched as her vision swam, and she threw her arm over her eyes to block out the bright taillights. This was a dream. Of course — that’s what this was. Just some weird, unnatural nightmare. “You — you’re not real.” She let out a soft laugh, and the pain slowly began to subside as adrenaline took hold. “This isn’t real.”

“Why don’t you just tell us how you know who we are?” she heard Dean press, and his question was followed by a sharp slap. “Ow!”

“Dude, who cares?” Sam retorted. “Let’s just get her help, okay?” Dean started to protest, but Sam immediately cut him off. “You just hit her with your damn car, Dean. She needs help —”

“Is your dad dead?” Alex’s question had Sam falling immediately silent, and she smiled but refused to move her arm away from her eyes. She could still feel the world spinning around her, and she drew her legs up so they were bent as a warm, fuzzy feeling swept over her. _Shock, probably_ , a little voice in the back of her mind insisted, but she ignored it.

Sam was the first to speak, and when he did, his voice was stiff. “How do you know about our dad?”

Alex chuckled again as that fuzzy feeling took hold. “This is a stupid dream,” she chided. “You look so tiny. You’re just babies still.” She threw off her arm so she could see. “Is he dead?” She lifted her head when neither answered, and she looked into Dean’s wary gaze. “Uh, he was killed by what’s-his-face — Yellow-Eyes? Azazel.” She snapped her fingers as the name came back to her. “How long ago?”

“How do you know?” Dean demanded. “Who are you?”

Alex opened her mouth to answer, but her attention was immediately drawn over to the Impala. “Pretty car,” she murmured before she blinked sharply, yanking herself out of her thoughts. “I — sorry.” A hand came up to touch her throbbing head.

“You’ve got a concussion,” Sam explained, and he turned to his brother. “Let’s get her to Bobby.”

“Not until she explains how the hell she knows about Dad,” Dean Winchester retorted, and he flinched as Sam once again smacked him on the shoulder. “Ow! Stop it!”

“Bobby.” Alex tipped her head thoughtfully. “I like Bobby. He’s grumpy.” She let her head fall back onto the cold pavement and let out a groan. “Grumpy Bobby.”

“Come on.” The ground disappeared from beneath her as hands lifted her into a chest, and Alex leaned into the warmth with another groan. “Let’s get you in the car.”

The warm rush of adrenaline was beginning to fade, and with it came pain and a sharp sense of clarity. “This isn’t real,” she murmured into the jacket. “You guys know you can’t exist, right? This is a joke.”

“Some joke,” Dean scoffed, and Alex heard one of the Impala doors open. “You fell out of the damn air and onto my car.”

“I … I remember that.” With the help of Sam, Alex slid onto the black leather of the backseat. “I landed on the car.” She grimaced at the memory, and pulled in her legs when Sam closed the door behind her. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a train,” she muttered as the two brothers climbed into the front seat.

“You fell from fucking _sky_ ,” Dean repeated sharply. “You shouldn’t be moving. Hell, you shouldn’t be alive from a fall like that.” The engine purred to life, and Alex curled up in the back as the world began to spin once again. “Hold on,” she heard Dean tell her. “We’re only twenty minutes away.” He pushed down on the gas, and the car accelerated, tearing down the dark road. Darkness clouded her vision, and despite Dean’s persistent questions, she let it take over, and the young girl blacked out.

 

 **S** he was woken by sunlight. Alex rolled over with a groan, and her actions elicited an even louder groan to find her body stiffer than a board. Everything ached, and she grit her teeth in surprise until she grew accustomed to the deep, dull pain. Memories followed the pain, memories of last night —

Alex snapped open her eyes. Last night. Where was she? The room was unfamiliar, and she jumped out of the large bed. Her legs immediately buckled from underneath her, and the young girl fell onto the wooden floor with a loud thud. She tried again, and this time she was able to stand on shaky legs. “Are you okay?” A voice had Alex looking up to find Dean Winchester standing in the doorway.

“What?” She stared up into his face, mouth once again hanging open. “Y-You’re still here?”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean shifted his beer bottle to his other hand as he studied her. “That’s kind of how this thing works —”

“No, no, that — that’s not what I meant.” Alex sat down on the bed. “I … I just — I thought I hallucinated last night. I mean, hallucinated you and Sam …” She looked down, curious about a particularly sharp pain on her forearm, and she frowned at the crude bandage. “This …?” She ripped it off to find a small cut.

“Sorry about that.” Dean shrugged unapologetically, a direct contrast to his statement, and Alex’s frown deepened. “Just had to check to see if you were a shifter.”

“Well, I’m not.” The girl reached up to touch her head, wincing to find a rather large bump on the back of her skull. “Where are we?”

“Bobby’s.” The Winchester lips pursed together. “Listen, you hit your head pretty hard. Maybe you should lie back down, okay? You were saying some pretty weird stuff last night.”

“About your father?” Alex finished. “Yeah, I, uh, I remember.” She slowly rose back to her feet and took a shaky step towards Dean. “How long ago was that?”

“Why does it matter?” Dean retorted, and he stepped out into the hall. “You still haven’t explained who you are.”

Alex chose to ignore his last statement, and she followed him through the hallway and down the stairs. “It matters because,” she began, “if you’re Dean Winchester, you sold your soul about a year after that to save your brother. Which means you’d only had one year left to live—”

She was cut off when the wall suddenly collided with her back, and the young girl let out a cry of pain as Dean pinned her down with his arm. “How the hell do you know that?” he snapped.

“I know that because you can’t be real!” Alex fruitlessly tried to shove the hunter away, but he didn’t budge. “You can’t be real!” she repeated insistently.

Dean pressed her harder into the wall. “Does that feel real?” he demanded, and Alex gasped for breath as her breath was crushed out of her lungs.

Suddenly Dean was pulled away, and the young girl drew in a loud, deep gasp. “What the hell, Dean!” Sam shoved his brother away, and he positioned himself in front of Alex. “What are you doing?”

“She knows, Sam.” Dean straightened his jacket, and sharp green eyes sought out Alex. “She knows about the deal I made! No one knows about that except demons.”

“I’m not a demon!” Alex yelled.

“She’s not a demon,” Sam insisted simultaneously. “We tested her, remember? She’s clean.” He glanced back at Alex, and the girl pressed herself into the wall. “I don’t know how she knows any of this,” he said, “but why don’t we just try asking her, okay?”

Dean stalked away, and Alex rolled her shoulders back, lifting up her chin as she followed Sam into the study. A man sat at a desk, his nose buried in a book that looked identical to the rest of the books that lay piled around him. He was dressed in a ragged plaid shirt over a worn green t-shirt, and a old, dirty green and white cap sat upon his head. “Bobby, right?” she asked. “Hey.”

The man looked up, and Alex narrowed her eyes at the immediate distrust in his gaze. “Excuse me?”

“I-I said hey.” Alex glanced down at the open books. “That a, uh, that’s a lot of reading. What are you looking for?”

“Demons.” Dean leaned up against the wall, and Sam walked over to sit down on the old couch.

“Demons?” Alex repeated. Her head tipped, remembering Dean’s defensiveness, and she took a gamble to ask, “Lilith?”

Her question caught Bobby’s attention, and he leaned back in his seat. “You know her?” he asked warily, and Alex sank down into a chair across from the desk.

“Kinda.” Her lips twisted into a frown. “I — not personally, though. I know of her.” She studied the old hunter in front of her. He really did look like Bobby Singer. How was that possible?

“She’s somewhere in Indiana,” Sam explained from the couch, and Alex turned to look at him, thankful that at least someone was willing to give her answers. Her thankfulness, of course, was short lived. “How do you know so much?” he asked, but, sensing Alex’s displeasure, added, “You seem to know a lot.”

“I don’t know. Well, I do know,” the girl quickly backtracked. “But … you guys shouldn’t be real. Just saying.” She drew her legs up onto the chair so she was sitting crosslegged, trying to play it cool even though she could feel her cheeks flushing under three intense stares. “I just don’t know what to think right now.”

“How about start with the fact that we’re real.” Dean crossed his arms, and Alex looked between the three hunters that sat around her.

Their gazes didn’t let up, and the girl let out a forced laugh. “So you guys are Sam and Dean Winchester? For real?” When the two brothers nodded, she laughed again. “Okay, okay, I’ll play along. Right. Winchesters. You guys are from a tv show. _Supernatural_ , it’s called. Judging by the Dean’s deal with Lilith and the length of Sammy’s hair —“ She ignored Sam’s noise of indignation “—I’d say this is somewhere around the end of season three.”

The hunters were silent. It was Dean who finally broke the tension. “Okay then. That’s not creepy or impossible at all.” He pushed himself off of the wall and approached, and Alex lifted up her chin. “So this show. Is it right? About all of this that’s going on?”

“From what you’ve told me so far, it’s accurate.” Alex held Dean’s gaze, and then she rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Seriously. Can we just cut the crap, guys? I know this is a joke. Some sick, twisted joke.” She looked around, but the blank looks that greeted her said enough. The girl dropped her head into her hands. Maybe she was in a coma — that could cause weird dreams, right? “Do you have some aspirin?” she finally asked. “My head’s sort of burning.”

Dean nodded and stepped into the kitchen, disappearing from her line of sight. “So how are you even alive?” Bobby asked, and his voice drew her attention onto him. “The way I understand it, you fell from the sky onto a car. Most people would be dead, not walking around complaining of a headache.”

Alex shrugged. “I honestly have no idea,” she admitted. “All I remember … I was walking down the street. Then there was a flash of white light, and then I’m falling onto the Impala.” Dean returned with a glass of water and an aspirin bottle, and Alex accepted it graciously. “Thank you.” She popped off the lid and swallowed two tablets along with some of the water. She looked over to see that Bobby was staring at her, and she set her glass down on her lap. “What?”

“Nothing. But you ain’t hurt at all. No broken bones, nada. You’ve only got a few bruises and a concussion from when you bashed your head against the ground. Oh, and that cut about your eye there.”

Alex reached up to feel above her left eye, fingers tracing the stitches. She winced at the pain, and her hand fell back down to her lap. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, everything hurts.” She put the glass down onto the desk as she shifted to rest her feet back on the ground. “So, how long was I out?”

It was Sam who answered. “About eight hours. We weren’t expecting you to wake up for another six or so.”

“Huh.” Alex reached up to rub the muscles in her sore neck, and she immediately froze. Panic, hot and sharp, pulsed through her, and she ran her fingers across her neck. “Where is it?” she suddenly asked, and her eyes widened as she turned to Sam.

The Winchester’s hazel eyes sparkled in confusion. “Where is what?” he repeated.

“My necklace.” The panic was growing, and Alex ran a hand across her sternum, but it was gone. “Where is it?”

“Relax.” Dean stepped up from behind her, a silver chain hanging from his fingertips. “It’s right here. It came off when you hit the car. I found it on the road next to you.”

Alex snatched it out of his hands, and she ran the chain through her thin fingers. The silver angel wing pennant was still there, and she closed her fingers tightly around it as she let out a sigh of relief. Thank God.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just … really important to me.” Alex slipped the necklace back over her head and tucked it beneath her grey t-shirt before she watched Sam pick up his laptop. “So with this Lilith thing — have you figured out where in Indiana?”

The Winchester let out a curt nod. “Yeah, some place called New Harmony.”

Alex hummed, unfamiliar with the location, and Dean turned to look down at her. “So this show of yours,” he began. “How much do you know about it?”

“How much?” Alex repeated, and she pulled a thoughtful face. “I’d say a good amount. I mean, I’ve only seen the episodes once, so I can’t say I remember that much detail. Just the big stuff, you know? Plot points, monsters, maybe some funny stuff here and there.” She looked Dean up and down before adding, “I always got the impression that you’d be a lot nicer. You know, a lot less likely to throw me into a wall. You’re about what I expected, though,” she added to Bobby.

The grumpy old hunter harrumphed. “And what about hunting?” he asked, choosing to ignore her offhanded comment. “You know much about that?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, I’d say so,” she agreed, and she looked around the room. Bobby’s study. It looked pretty much like she had imagined; dark and cluttered, with the smell of old pages and alcohol. “I mean, I know enough.”

“Okay. So then how do you kill a vamp?”

Alex snorted; that one was easy. “Decapitation,” she recited.

“Spirit?”

“Burn the bones.”

“Or …?”

“Or whatever it’s attached to,” she finished. “Because sometimes there isn’t a body left to burn.”

“Demon?” Dean piped up, and Alex cast him a sidelong glance.

“To kill one?” she inquired. “Demon knife, the Colt, touch of an —” Alex immediately snapped her mouth shut, cutting herself off from giving away information the hunters before her had supposedly yet to learn. “No, not quite yet.”

“Touch of a what?” Sam repeated.

“The touch of a nothing-you-should-know-about,” Alex retorted stubbornly, arrogance masking her fear. “You say Dean’s still got time before his deal’s up, that means you don’t know about it yet. You ever heard of the butterfly effect? Because that’s what this is.”

“Hey.” The youngest Winchester’s eyes flashed. “I am trying to save my brother’s life here.”

“Dean can take care of himself!” Alex shot back, and she crossed her arms across her chest.

“Hey, hold on.” Dean stepped in between the two of them, arms outstretched to keep the peace. “Just relax, alright?”

Sam got up and stalked off into the kitchen, and Dean followed. “I am trying to save your ass, Dean,” Alex heard the Winchester protest quietly, and the young girl fidgeted in her seat.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean whispered back. “But yelling at her won’t do you any good. She’s not going to talk if you scare her.” Upon hearing that, Alex let out a huff, and she heard Dean sigh. “Let me talk to her. I’m good with kids.”

“I’m not a kid,” Alex muttered under her breath, and she slung one arm over the back of the chair as the two brothers returned.

A easygoing smile was plastered across Dean’s face, and he pulled up a nearby chair and straddled it, resting his forearms across the back as he cleared his throat. “So, uh, Alex — that’s your real name right?”

Alex frowned at the strange question. “Real enough,” she retorted.

Sam let out a barely disguised snort of amusement as he took up his seat on the couch, and Alex watched how Bobby leaned back in his seat, watching the two of them carefully. Dean ignored them. “Uh, okay, then, _Alex_. Listen. I need to know how to kill Lilith.”

Alex tipped her head in false innocence. “I already gaze you two ways,” she reminded calmly.

“Yeah, but you started to give a third,” the Winchester persisted, and Alex could hear the impatience that strained at his voice. “What can touch a demon and kill it?”

“Well, not just demons.” Alex leaned back in her chair, eyes finding the ceiling as she thought. “It can pretty much kill anything that it wants. It’s pretty powerful, after all.”

“Okay, but I need a name.”

“You’re not getting a name.” Alex tipped her head back down so she could look Dean in the eyes. “Like I said, man. Butterfly effect. If by some small, impossible chance that this is all real, I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“I’m going to die!” The Winchester’s voice grew sharp. “I think that’s a pretty damn good reason to tell.”

“Dean. The show goes on past the end of this season,” Alex reminded, her voice suddenly growing soft and quiet. “You don’t need what I’m not supposed to name. This isn’t the end. Speaking of,” she added in a much louder tone, “what’s the date today?”

“Uh, May 8th,” Sam relayed.

“Year?”

“Why?”

“Because. Here’s the thing.” Alex leaned forward in her chair, and her grey eyes sparkled with true curiosity. “Like I said, right now we’re nearing the end of season three, right? But I already know what’s going on. The show I was watching was in the middle of season eight, confirmed for at least another few seasons after that. So either this universe is off, or …”

“Or this is a different year,” Sam finished.

“Yahtzee.” Alex flashed him a small grin. “So, what’s the year?”

“2008.”

“Ah. So back in time it is.” Alex straightened back up in her chair with a slow nod. “Awesome. Nothing quite like reliving the twenty first century, am I right?”

When neither Winchester immediately responded, Bobby Singer took the initiative. “So, when exactly are you from?” he asked.

“2013?” Alex nodded. “Yeah, that sound right. I’m from the year 2013.”


	2. No Rest for the Wicked

**May 10th, 2008  
** **Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**A** lex opened her eyes to find herself staring at a dusty old bookshelf overflowing with books and ancient texts, and she let out a small groan. Another day, and still she was here, in this strange world of … whatever this was. The girl pulled herself to her feet, wincing at the deep-set pain in her limbs. She ran her hands down the front of the oversized t-shirt Dean had lent her, smoothing out the wrinkles, before she slowly made her way downstairs.

The Winchesters were in the study, exactly where she had left them the night before, and she paused in the doorway when they looked up. “Uh, morning.” She offered up half a smile as her gaze flickered over Sam and Dean. “Where’s Bobby at?”

“Supply run.” Dean motioned to the empty whiskey bottles on the desk, letting Alex fill in the blanks. “How’s the head?”

“Tolerable.” The girl sunk down into one of the wooden chairs and put her head into her hands. “Do you … do you have a computer around here that I could use?” She rolled her head to look up at Dean. “Those exist in this universe, right?”

“Ha ha. Funny.” Dean jerked a thumb over his shoulder into the kitchen. “Sam’s is on the table.” He pushed himself off of the wall and walked over to sit down at the desk, and Alex rose to her feet and moved off into the kitchen. Just as Dean had said, a laptop sat on the crowded wooden table. She flipped open the screen and plopped down in the chair before she cast a look around the room. There seemed to be no sign of breakfast even though it was barely 8:30am. “Password’s ‘crymax.’ ”

“ _Dude_!” Sam protested. “It’s not. It’s ‘moore02,’ okay? The hell’s your problem?”

Dean snickered loudly, and Alex rolled her eyes as she typed in the password. The first thing she did was pull up the internet, and, with a cautious glance back at the two brothers, typed in the first two things that came to mind. _Paul Walker death. Boston Marathon bombing._

Nothing.

Nothing.

Alex stared at the tabs, and she snapped her mouth shut when she realized that it had fallen open. _President Barack Obama_. He wasn’t even president yet — everyone thought he would lose to … McCain? The young girl tipped her head. She knew nothing about politics. Ah. She had made an instagram account two months ago. The young girl went up to the top search bar and typed in the instagram url.

_Sorry, this page does not exist._

“What?”

“What what?” Sam leaned up against the doorframe, and his hazel eyes were sparkling slightly in concern. “What are you looking for?”

“Instagram.” Alex looked up at the Winchester, and she tipped her head. “The webpage doesn’t exist. What did you do to it?” She tapped the computer screen with a frown. “Did the internet go out?’

“Instagram?” Sam narrowed his eyes. “Never heard of it. What is it?”

“Uh, social media site based around photos. It’s really big — everyone’s getting one. And I’m looking to prove that I’m not in 2008.” Alex flipped through her tabs, and she felt her confidence falter slightly as she looked back at her discoveries. “Although Obama doesn’t seem to be president yet.” Her shoulders fell, and she turned her eyes up onto Sam. “So I don’t know how you’re doing it — some … some fancy algorithm or something — but it’s impressive, alright?” Alex closed the laptop with a shake of her head. “Damn impressive.”

 

 **A** day passed, then two, and three, and Alex finally began to give up on her search. There was nothing in the internet, or in the newspapers in town. Sioux Falls; a town with a population of fifteen hundred thousand, and not a single person she had asked could answer any of her questions.

The two brothers, on the other hand, had only begun to drill her harder. The same questions had come day after day, and the young girl’s patience and warily crafted answers had begun to wear away. She had tried to be careful, to keep her responses vague and cryptic, but things were beginning to slip.

The only solace from the barrage of interrogations was Bobby Singer. His questions had never extended past what she had experienced those few minutes leading up to her fall, and he even allowed her to help with their work in what little ways she could — which wasn’t much, but, despite Bobby’s sharp words and grumbles, she was beginning to learn.

Friday marked her sixth day in the year 2008. Alex had snuck downstairs to find the three hunters passed out from exhaustion. They had spent the entire night planning and pacing; Alex had heard them from where she had slept up in Bobby Singer’s bed. Empty whiskey bottles lined the desk where the grouchy old man sat, his head buried in his arms, and even the creaking of the wooden floors hadn’t caused him to stir. Alex had grabbed one of the Winchester’s old sweatshirts off of the banister to ward off the early morning chill, and then she had set off into town in search of breakfast.

She didn’t return to the Salvage Yard until the sun was high in the sky. She could hear movement off towards the back of the house as she reached the end of the long, dirt driveway, and her head tipped with curiosity; someone was awake. She circled around the large stacks of tires to find the hood of the Impala propped up. A figure was bent over the engine, back twisted as he swung a hammer up into the metal. “Whatcha doing?” Alex asked, and the figure paused mid-swing.

“Not much.” Dean Winchester straightened up and tossed the hammer onto the dirt. “Just finishing getting out those dents you caused.” He carefully put the hood back down and wiped his large hands off on his worn jeans. “Where were you? We couldn’t find you this morning.” He leaned up against hood and crossed his arms as he faced the young girl.

Alex frowned. “I wasn’t aware I was under house arrest,” she quipped back, and she crossed her own arms as she braced herself from another round of hard questions. “I went out for breakfast.”

“Huh.” Dean kicked the hammer over towards the rusty toolbox. “So, uh, adjusting well?”

“I’ll be fine.” The girl mimicked Dean by crossing her arms. “Still not fully convinced this is real and not a dream, but, uh, I’m just taking each day as it comes.” She watched how Dean’s gaze flickered onto the ground, and as the silence between them grew, she cleared her throat. “You … are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” The Winchester’s voice grew guarded, and Alex pursed her lips at the sudden sharpness that lined his words.

“Scared?” she guessed, and she kicked at a small bolt that lay in the dirt when Dean’s green eyes turned onto her face.

She expected him to snap, but when he spoke, his voice was low and light with forced humor. “Why would you think that?” he asked, and his fingers drummed on his biceps with … nervousness?

She let out a quiet laugh, which ended with a noise that sounded more like a scoff. “You’ve got two days until your time is up,” she reminded, and confidence sparked within her stomach when Dean’s green eyes flickered briefly at the reminder. “Even you have got to be terrified. I can see it on your face, man,” she snapped when Dean’s lips pursed. “I know you’re trying to be all tough for Sam, but you can’t hide it from me.”

“Stop, okay?” Fire flashed in his harlequin green eyes, and his arms unfolded as he straightened up. “Stop telling me how I feel. It’s kinda freaky.” He bent down to snatch up the hammer and toolkit, and he stormed off around towards the Impala’s trunk.

“Can I come?” Alex’s voice had the Winchester pausing, and he turned back with confusion wrinkling his smooth, freckled face.

“Come?” he repeated. “Come where?”

“Come with you,” Alex explained. “When the three of you go after Lilith.” She shoved her hands into her jean pockets, and her teeth chewed nervously on her bottom lip when Dean only stared.

“Seriously? No. No way.” Dean firmly shook his head, and he tossed the hammer into the trunk. “Why would you even think we’d let you come with?”

“What?” Alex rolled her shoulders back as her grey eyes flashed indignantly. “Uh, I don’t know, maybe because of the whole ‘I-come-from-the-future-where-this-is-a-show’? I can help.”

Dean slammed the trunk shut. “What, like you helped before?” he retorted. “No. As soon as we’re underway, you’re going home. You said you lived where? Minnesota, or, uh, Chicago?” The hunter waved the exact location off as unimportant. “It’s on our way, so that’s where you’re going.”

“Home?” Alex let out a snort at the very idea. “In case you haven’t noticed, Winchester, I haven’t tried to leave. I’m not from here — why would I want to go to my this-universe relatives who don’t even know who I am?”

Dean shrugged. “Then we’ll just have to find a way to get you back to your universe, okay?” The Winchester circled back around to stand in front of her. “I mean, what about your family? I’m sure they’re missing you.”

“I don’t have a family.” Alex’s words were blunt, and her arms came back up to cross defensively in front of her chest. “My mom died when I was seven, and my dad …” Her teeth dug into her lip, and the young girl took a deep breath before she slowed her story down. “After my mom died, he started drinking, gambling, the works. One day when I was thirteen, he just got up and left. I don’t know where he went, and I haven’t heard from him since. So I just got put into the system.”

“I’m sorry.”

Alex shrugged at the Winchester’s sympathy. “It wasn’t all bad. I got put with a good family a few months later. I was with them for almost three years until … until they died, too. We were t-boned by a drunk driver; I survived, they didn’t.” Tears stung her eyes, but Alex firmly pushed them away. “Once I was out of the hospital, I got a new family, but, uh … they … they didn’t like me. They already had two little ones —” She cut off, confident the Winchester didn’t want to hear the details. “Long story short, we didn’t get along. The night I, well, _fell_ , we had fought, and they had thrown me out of the house for the night.” She let out a dry laugh that was accompanied by the roll of her eyes. “They probably just think I’m living somewhere else now. I’m seventeen; they don’t care what I do.”

Her words were followed by a short pause. “Sorry to hear that,” Dean finally said, and he reached in through the open Impala window to pull out an opened beer bottle. “But you’re still not coming with.”

“Aw, come on! Bobby gets to go with.”

“Yeah, well, _Bobby_ can take care of himself,” Dean shot back.

“I can take care of myself.” Alex frowned at Dean’s disbelieving scoff. “I can!” she insisted. “Besides, there’s no way you’d just leave me here on my own — not after how closely you guys have been watching me for the past week.”

Dean shook his head. “You’re be safer here than with us,” was all he said, and Alex frowned.

“You don’t know that,” she retorted. “It’s not like I’m going into this blind, man. I’m serious. I just watched this episode, like, four days ago. I’m pretty confident about where this is going.”

She watched how Dean’s jaw tightened at her words. “Oh. Would you like to share with the rest of the class?”

“I can’t.” Alex had answered this question so many times, she knew the answer inside and out. “I’ve already told you, Dean. Changing anything could screw up the whole world, o-or, maybe knowing the outcome will result in not only you needlessly dying, but Sam and Bobby, too. Plus,” she added with a downwards tilt of her lips, “if everything changes and this _is_ the real world, then I’ve just lost every advantage I had in the first place.”

“That’s no excuse,” Dean muttered, and he tipped back his head as he finished off the last of his beer. “Tell you what. I’ll talk to Sam about you coming along, alright? If he and Bobby think you should come — which they won’t,” he quickly added, “— then you can come. Capisce?”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Dean repeated, and he gave a curt nod of his head as the matter was settled. “In the meantime, why don’t we get some target practice in, huh?” He shook the empty bottle, and Alex nodded in understanding. “I’ll get the guns out of the trunk, and you go get the rest of the bottles in the house. See you in five?”

“In five.” Alex watched as Dean moved away, and with a shake of her blonde head, she hurried off in the other direction.

 

 **“I** don’t know how I got talked into this.” Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he glared back at Alex in the backseat. The young girl could only shrug; both Sam and Bobby had agreed that she should be allowed to come, and, against Dean’s better judgement, he had relented.

“She can help.” Sam’s voice was flat, an indication that he and Dean had had this conversation many times before. “She’s the only one here who actually knows what’s going on.”

The glare of headlights caught in the rearview mirror, and Alex twisted so she could see the large, rusted car that drove behind them. That was Bobby Singer — right now, Alex wasn’t sure why she hadn’t agreed to ride with him.

“What if she’s wrong?” Dean’s voice had Alex turning back to face the brother’s, and she frowned deeply at his implications.

“I’m not wrong,” she retorted, suppressing the small yet sudden wave of doubt. “And I haven’t been wrong so far, remember?” She pulled her feet up off of the floor and tucked them under her legs as the Impala rounded a bend.

“Yeah whatever.” Dean fell silent with a grumble, and Alex shifted uncomfortably on the leather seats. “You got the knife?” he asked a few seconds later.

“Of course I have the knife,” Sam snapped.

“Give it here.” Dean held out a hand, and Sam reluctantly complied after a second or two, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a large, serrated knife. Alex could make out intricate carvings in the blade in the moonlight before Dean tucked it inside his jacket. “Sam, listen.” The oldest Winchester turned his gaze onto his brother. “I don’t want you trying to bring me back, okay?”

Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Dean turned his head back to the road. “If this doesn’t work out, I don’t want you trying to save me. Don’t even think about it.”

“But —”

Dean immediately cut him off. “No buts, you hear me? I’m serious, Sammy. My dying wish, if you will.” He looked up into the rearview mirror as he added, “Same goes for you, Alex.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the young girl promised with a small shrug.

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Dean reached over and cranked up the music to drown out any protests. Metallica filled the car, and Alex settled further down into the Impala seats. Trees sped by outside, partially hidden by the darkened sky. “Sam?” she asked aloud. The Winchester didn’t answer, and she leaned forward to tap him on the shoulder. “Sam?” she repeated. “Where are we?”

Sam startled slightly, but he turned his eyes onto her. “Uh, we just crossed into Illinois,” he explained over the loud music.

“Oh. Okay.” Alex returned to her seat. Iowa. They should be in Indiana within a few hours. Just enough time for her to rest her eyes. She curled up in the seat and tucked her arms under her head, letting the hum of the music and the rocking of the car lure her towards sleep.

However, she had barely started to slip into her dreams before she was brought back into reality by the sound of sirens. Dean swore under his breath as he turned the music down, and the Impala rolled to a stop on the side of the road. Alex lifted her head and peered over the back to see the red and blue spinning lights on top of the police car. A tall officer approached the old Chevy, and Sam fished around in the glovebox for a license for Dean.

The man rapped on the window, and Dean rolled it down to hand him the appropriate papers. “You do realize you have a busted headlight, Mr. —” the officer looked down at the license, “— Hagar.”

“Yessir, I’ve been meaning to … to take care of that.” Dean looked up at the officer, and he paused. “Actually —” Suddenly the Winchester threw open the door, and the impact knocked the policeman down onto the pavement.

“Dean!” Sam threw open the car door with a cry of surprise as Dean leapt out and yanked the officer to his feet. A punch across the jaw had the man crying out, and Dean whipped out the knife from his jacket and shoved the blade through his throat.

The officer’s face lit up with an unholy orange light as he died, and the body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud. Brakes squealed as Bobby Singer pulled up behind them, and his door swung open and closed. “What the hell just happened?” he snapped as he hurried over to stand in front of Dean.

“Dean just killed a demon.” Sam was staring down at the body, voice soft and eyes wide in shock.

The old hunter looked over at Dean, his eyebrows knit together in confusion, and when he spoke, his own voice was high with surprise. “How’d you know?”

Dean Winchester looked back at his brother. “I just knew,” he explained slowly. “I could see his face — his real face, under that one.”

Silence followed his words, and Alex finally crawled out of the car, not fully grasping the reality that Dean had just killed a man in front of her. “Dean … he can see the demon’s true form,” she began as she circled around to stand at Bobby’s side. Her eyes traced the officer’s dark form, finally stopping on the bloodied, gaping wound in his neck. Her stomach twisted, but she couldn’t pull her gaze away. “He’s only got a — a few hours left, and he’s ‘piercing the veil,’ if you will.” She fell into silence, unable to look away from the gruesome sight before her, but when no one else spoke, she finally added, “He’s starting to see the other side.”

“Great.” Dean muttered out the word, and he slid the knife back into his jacket.

“Yes, actually.” The Winchester’s voice drew Alex’s attention away from the demon, and her voice grew sharp as she once again was able to focus on their predicament. “Things will be a lot easier now that we can tell who’s demon and who’s not.” She turned her eyes up towards the waxing moon. “Come on. We’re wasting time.”

“Wait in the car.” A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Alex looked up into Bobby’s face. “Sam,” the hunter added, turning to the two brothers and pointing off to their left, “help me push that car down off the road. We’ll hide it in those trees over there. Dean, bring the demon.”

The two Winchesters immediately obeyed, and Alex reluctantly returned to the Impala’s side, crossing her arms as she watched the hunters work. Sam and Bobby pushed the police car down into the ditch and hastily began covering it with branches while Dean situated the body in the front seat. The breeze carried the murmur of voices, but they were too far away for Alex to make out distinct words. She tapped her foot on the pavement as she waited impatiently for the three to finish their task.

She finally slid into the backseat once she saw the hunters return to the road, and a few seconds later, the doors opened as Sam and Dean climbed in. “Everything okay?” she asked casually, her voice light in an attempt to hide her curiosity.

“Everything’s fine.” Dean slammed the door behind him and started the car, and the engine purred to life as they sped away.

 

**New Harmony, Indiana**

**T** hey arrived in New Harmony within the hour. Dean pulled the Impala to a stop at the end of a residential street, and Alex peered through the window as she took in the row of white suburban houses. “Are you sure this is the right place?” she inquired, skeptical of how the hunters had so accurately determined Lilith’s location.

“Bobby was able to pinpoint it to this neighborhood,” Sam explained quietly as Dean leaned over the seat to grab his bag. “Dean should be able to tell us more.”

“This place feels wrong,” the Winchester muttered under his breath. “She’s here.” He threw open the Impala door. “I saw a ‘For Sale’ sign as we drove by,” he explained.”We’ll head there and set up base camp.”

Alex frowned, but she followed Sam and Dean’s lead. She waited as the two brothers slung their duffle bags over their shoulders, and as she stepped out in the cold night air, the young girl barely suppressed a shiver. Standing in the open, she suddenly felt exposed, and her mind began to reel as she imagined a thousand different ways as to how the next hour could unfold.

“You okay?” Bobby’s voice had her jumping in surprise, and Alex spun around with wide eyes.

“Y-Yeah,” she squeaked out, and she looked down at the goosebumps that covered her skin. “Just a little cold. Dean said we were heading for a house?”

The hunter nodded. “Stay close to me,” he instructed, and he held out his hand. “Here.” A necklace dangled from his fingers, a thin silver chain with a silver pendant attached. “Anti-possession charm,” he explained when Alex’s head tipped. “Trust me; you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you.” Alex slipped the charm over her head and tucked it beneath her shirt, fingers tracing the silver chain as it came to rest beside her own treasured necklace. She could feel the cool metal resting against her skin, and the charm brought a faint sense of comfort to her soul.

The hunters set out, and Alex followed them across the grass. They passed through the darkened backyards, Dean in the lead, with Sam taking up the rear. Alex stayed close to Bobby’s side, eyes darting across their surroundings. She half-expected demons to swarm them from every side, and her shoulders began to ache as her muscles tensed even more, but they reached the empty home without detection.

Alex didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until she stepped into the hallway, until her lungs burned for air. She drew in a deep, noisy breath, and immediately snapped her mouth shut when Sam cast her a look out of the corner of his eye. She expected to be reprimanded, but all he murmured was, “Stay here. We’re going to check the house and make sure there’s no demons here.”

The girl nodded; she hadn’t considered that possibility. She pressed her back into the wall and let the two brothers slip past. Bobby thankfully stayed with her, and Alex reached up to run her hand through her blonde hair as the Winchester’s footsteps faded. “Still wishing you had come?” Bobby asked, a casual tone in his voice even as he kept it low.

Alex stiffened at the implication that their situation was too much for her to handle; stubbornness pushed through her, followed immediately by a shot of courage, and she firmly shook her head. “I’m fine,” she promised sharply. “Don’t worry about me.”

Footfalls announced the return of Sam, and he waved them over. “The place is clean,” he explained, “and there’s a good view of the street from upstairs. Dean’s there now.” He led the way through the empty living room and up the wooden staircase to the master bedroom.

Dean Winchester stood by the window, his binoculars raised to his face as he studied the street below. “I think I found her.” His voice was low with anger and determination, and he lowered the binoculars to look over at his friends. “She’s in the house just to our left.” He held out the binoculars to Sam, and his brother hurried forward to see for himself. “It’s the littler girl,” Dean explained as Bobby and Alex moved closer, and the young girl peered out the corner of the window towards the house Dean was referring to. “Her face is awful.”

The downstairs lights were on, and although Alex couldn’t make out faces, she could see shapes moving through the room. She felt Sam step away from the window behind her. “Alright then, let’s go,” he decided. “We’re wasting time.”

He took a hurried step away, but Dean reached out to stop him. “Wait!” he insisted, and Alex turned in confusion; the hunter seemed to know something they didn’t.

“For what?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

“Demons.” Dean spit out the word. “Look. See the real go-getter mailman on the clock at nine PM?” he pointed out the window, and Sam turned back with the binoculars. “And Mr. Rogers over there.”

Alex squinted as she tried to see through the darkness; the postman she could see clearly, sitting in his mail truck in front of the house across the street. The other demons were harder to spot, but Alex could see figures in other houses, sitting or standing silently in their homes. Demons.

“Okay, fine.” Sam handed the binoculars over to his brother. “We — we — we — we …” The hunter stalled, digging for a plan in the back of his mind. “We ninja past those guys, sneak in.”

Dean snorted. “Then, what? Give a Columbian necktie to a ten year old girl, come on!” He glanced down at Alex, and she reluctantly turned away from the window. “Alright, genius,” he prompted. “You know what’s the deal, so spit it out. What do we do?”

“You need to get into that house,” the young girl decided. “And yeah. You kill Lilith at all costs. I know it sucks, Dean,” she quickly added when the hunter’s green eyes hardened, “but that little girl is Lilith. You let her go, you die.”

“And so do a hell of a lot of other people,” Sam finished. “This isn’t just about saving you, Dean. This is about saving everyone.” He turned to look at Bobby. “Think you can take care of those demons out front?”

Bobby grunted in affirmation. “I got a few ideas,” he promised. “And let me guess. Pipsqueak here is with me?”

Sam nodded. “Dean and I will go in alone.”

Alex looked up to see that Bobby was frowning, but he didn’t argue. “Alright then,” he relented, “but you boys be careful. You’ve only got twenty minutes.”

Panic flashed through Dean’s eyes at those words, and even Alex felt a jolt of shock rush through her body, and she blinked back her surprise. Twenty minutes wasn’t long. “You guys should probably go,” she agreed, and she stepped back as the two brothers made their way towards the doorway. “Wait!” she called, drawing their attention back onto her long enough for her to add, “Dean, I’ll, uh … I’ll see you around, huh?”

The Winchester’s voice was light despite the darkness in his eyes. “I hope so.” Something passed across his face — hope, perhaps — and then he was gone, and Alex couldn’t help but feel nauseous at the sudden wave of guilt that swept over her. She swallowed thickly, trying to suppress the flood of foreign emotions that swirled within her gut.

She knew how this would turn out.

But what good would the truth do him now? The truth would have only made his last few days hopeless and grim. No. She had most certainly done the right thing.

“Come on.” Bobby was already halfway to the door, and Alex blinked in surprise as she came back to reality. “Stay close, alright?”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Alex reached up to feel the anti-possession charm that hung on her chest before she followed the old hunter down the stairs and out of the house. “Where are we going?” she whispered as they stepped out onto the damp grass.

“We’re looking for a shut off valve.” Bobby paused in the yard, and his blue eyes narrowed as he thought. “Think you can run back and get me a few things? One of us needs to stay here and find the damn thing,” he added when worry flashed through Alex, “and you can move a hell of a lot faster than me.”

“Yeah, sure.” The young girl’s mouth went dry, and she licked her lips as she cast a glance down towards where their cars lay. “A-And if I run into trouble?”

“Run.” Bobby handed her the keys to his rusted car. “Toolkit is in the trunk. Rosary is in the box next to it. Go on.” He turned back to the house, and as soon a Alex’s fingers closed around the keys, she broke into a sprint.

She dashed through the backyards, thankful for the black sweatshirt Dean had given her to help hide her in the night air. She slid to a stop in front of Bobby’s rusted Chevelle, casting a quick look around at her surroundings to make sure she was alone. The reality of her dangerous situation was finally coming down upon her, and she fumbled the keys as she tried to unlock the trunk. “Dammit,” she cursed under her breath, and she dug around through the dirty trunk for the toolbox Bobby had mentioned.

Once she had the requested items in hand, she made her way back across the yards, more slowly this time, keeping low and close to the houses. There had been no signs of demons, and the panic of being on her own was disappearing with each step closer to Bobby Singer.

“Here.” She set the toolbox down in front of the old hunter who was kneeling by the side of the house. “What’s the plan?”

“These are new houses,” Bobby began as he dug a wrench out of the metal box. “They all have underground sprinkler systems.” He yanked the metal cover off of the underground box that housed the shut off valve and unscrewed the cap, and Alex handed him the rosary.

“Holy water.” Alex filled in the blanks, and Bobby nodded. “Got it.” She snuck along the side of the house, keeping low as she peered around the corner towards the house where Lilith was hiding. “But how are we going to trigger the sprinklers from here?”

Bobby didn’t immediately answer, too busy with his task at hand. “ _Exorcizo te_ ,” he murmured, “ _creatura aquae. In nomine dei patris omnipotintes._ ” The latin phrase was lost on the young girl, and she turned back to see the old hunter drop the rosary down the pipes. Bobby turned, and their eyes met. “That’s the one problem,” he said, finally addressing Alex’s question. “The switch is at the back of the house.” He rose to his feet and dusted off his knees as he added, “Sam and Dean already cleared a path to the left, so that’s where we go.”

“…okay.”

Bobby paused, sensing the hesitation in her voice. “Never mind,” he decided. “You go upstairs and wait. Keep an eye out to make sure the Winchesters get in that house, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” The young girl frowned, not fond of splitting up, but the appeal of staying far away from real-life demons won out. “Be careful.”

“There’s salt in the car,” the hunter instructed as he slid the metal cover back over the water main. “Get that —”

“— salt the doors and the windows,” Alex finished. “Yeah, I know that much. Will do.” She watched as Bobby snuck away, and her shoulders fell as she added a quiet, “hurry back,” after him.

The trip back to the cars was less harrowing than before, and Alex wasted no time in hauling the half-empty bag of salt back to the empty house. The door was still unlocked, and the floorboards creaked under each step as the young girl hurried up the stairs to the room that overlooked the street.

She poured a thick, continuous line of salt across the windowsill and in front of the door, careful to lay it in a semi-circle large enough for the door to open when Bobby returned. Then she turned her eyes out the window.

The house was still, and all the lights were out. For almost a full sixty seconds, the entire neighborhood was dead; no sign of Bobby, of the Winchesters, or of any paranormal activity. Only the wind in the trees and the sounds of the night. And then people appeared.

They moved in from the edges of Alex’s vision, slowly at first, but gaining speed as three figures dashed across the lawn to stand on the front porch of Lilith’s house. Alex scooped up the binoculars so she could make out their faces. Sam, Dean, and a blonde woman. Alex knew that face well.

“Ruby.” She let the binoculars fall away from her eyes as she frowned. That was right. The demon showed up with them, too. Sam was already kneeling in front of the front door, trying to pick the lock, but the house was surrounded by almost twenty demons moving across the street and up onto the lawn.

The sprinklers came to life, and the air was filled with screams. The demons caught in the spray flailed in agony, and steam rose into the cold night air. Alex watched as they stumbled back to stand on the pavement, and the ear-piercing screeches began to fade. The Winchesters disappeared into the house, and Alex tossed the binoculars onto the duffle bag.

The door opened, and Alex spun around to see Bobby Singer step inside. “What’d I miss?”

“Well, your holy sprinkler idea worked perfectly.” Alex glanced down at the demons that surrounded the house. “Sam and Dean got inside, but I think Ruby was with them. She’s a demon,” she quickly added.

Bobby’s face darkened. “I know who she is. Why’s she there?”

“To help, I think.” Alex could only offer up a small shrug. “Whether or not you want to believe her is your choice. How’d you get back here so fast?”

“Just ran for it. The demons were too focused on the house to even notice.” Bobby crossed the room to peer out the window at the scene below. “So I guess now we just wait.”

“Okay.” Alex sank down on the floor and leaned up against the wall, head tipped back as she began to count the ceiling tiles. “How long have they got?”

“Five minutes, give or take.” Alex saw Bobby turn towards her out of the corner of her eye, and the room was silent for a second or two before the hunter finally spoke again. “Not to be mean or nothing, but given the circumstances, I figured I should ask. What’s up with you? I mean, falling from the sky, claiming are lives are part of a damn show. I’ve heard of a lot of things in my time, but that’s sure as hell ain’t one of ‘em.”

“Yeah, well, tell me about it.” The young girl looked up into the hunter’s eyes. “It’s not like I asked for this, man. I was just walking down the street, minding my own business, and _wham_.” She smacked her hand against her thigh for emphasis. “Next thing I know I’m landing on top of Dean’s car. Also, your lives aren’t just part of the show, your lives _are_ the show.”

“Damn that’s weird.”

“Not as weird as suddenly being tossed into a show that’s starting to look like it’s actually real life,” Alex countered. “I barely even know what’s real anymore. Actually,” she admitted in a quiet voice, “it’s a bit terrifying at times.”

“Well, it isn’t much better on this side. After all, it ain’t every day you run into a stranger who seems to know everything about you and your future.”

“No, I suppose not,” the young girl mused, and she reached up to tighten her ponytail as she glanced out at the moon. It was beginning to wane, stretching down beyond her line of sight.

Bobby shifted impatiently beside her. “So, I gotta ask,” he finally said. “Are you not speaking up cause you don’t think it’d change the outcome, or because you’re too afraid of what changing it might do?”

Alex looked up sharply at the question, but the old hunter didn’t flinch. “I … a little bit of both, I suppose.” Alex slowly rose to her feet and turned her eyes out the dark window. “Part of me’s too afraid to change what happens because if I do … if I do, I’ve lost the one edge I have in this world. But at the same time, I don’t know what I could have done. Either way, someone dies … and let’s just say Lilith is really hard to kill.”

She could see the emotion that flickered in Bobby’s eyes, but his voice was quiet. “And that thing you were talking about that could kill a demon with a touch?”

Alex shook her head. “Doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “You couldn’t get that thing to help us without it killing us too. It’ll come to us eventually, but right now you wouldn’t even believe it existed.”

The room suddenly grew dark, like a cloud had blotted out the sky, and Alex watched how the demons fled their hosts in a mass of thick, black smoke. “Maybe it worked.” Bobby words were hopeful, but his voice was flat.

Alex’s shoulders fell. “Bobby —“ she began, but the hunter cut her off.

“Let’s wait to see what happened before you go apologizing.” Bobby turned and hurried out the door, and Alex ran after him, sprinting down the stairs and out into the street. Bodies lined the street, whether dead or alive Alex couldn’t tell, but neither her nor Bobby stopped to check.

Bobby threw open the front door, and Alex almost knocked him over when the hunter suddenly pulled to a stop. She knew what lay in front of them, but she still couldn’t help the gasp of horror that escaped her lips as shock and fear shot up her spine like a flash of fire.

Sam Winchester was on the ground, holding his brother in his trembling arms. Dean’s green eyes were open, blank and dull as they stared into nothingness. Blood droplets dotted his face like macabre freckles. His arms and legs were red with blood that still seeped out of deep, ragged scratches, soaking into the hardwood floor. His chest was in ribbons, bits of torn, bloodied fabric mixed in with the unrecognizable flesh.

Alex immediately turned away, but the image was seared into her mind, each detail committed to a memory she would never be able to shake. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she squeezed her eyes shut to hold them back. She wasn’t going to cry, dammit. Not after she had been preparing herself for this moment for days.

Lying to the Winchesters had been so easy, but as she stood before Dean’s body, she wished with all her heart she had known how to stop it.

 

 **T** he next few hours passed like a dream. Sam had carefully wrapped his brother’s body in linen sheets and carried him out of the house, and Alex had watched as he laid Dean in the backseat of the Impala. She hadn’t missed the grief-stricken look he had given her, and she now rode silently in the front seat of Bobby’s Charger, watching the headlights of the Impala far ahead.

Two hundred miles later, at the crack of dawn, Sam had pulled over and buried Dean. He had dug the grave by himself, deep within a pine forest, only accepting Bobby’s help when his own strength had faltered. Alex watched from a distance, too afraid and guilt-ridden to offer her own help.

She only approached when Bobby motioned her forward to pay her last respects. She crept forward, carefully skirting past Sam, but the Winchester didn’t even seem to notice her. His hazel eyes were dull and distant, staring blankly at the ground.

She paused beside the grave, carefully not to tread on the soft, overturned dirt as she reached out to touch the makeshift wooden cross. “I’ll see you soon,” she promised softly, too quiet for either hunter to hear, and she squeezed her eyes shut as a single tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

A warm hand on her shoulder had her stepping away, and she turned to look up into Bobby’s eyes. “Come on,” he said quietly as his gaze turned onto Sam. “Let him mourn in peace.” He lead the way back towards the car, and Alex trailed behind. She cast a glance over her shoulder as they walked away, and through the trees she saw Sam fall to his knees beside his brother’s grave, head in his hands as he finally broke.

 

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**S** he awoke to darkness. Alex rolled over, eyes stretching open wide as they adjusted to the sparse moonlight in the room. She was upstairs in Bobby’s bed, but she hadn’t remembered falling asleep.

They had reached the house around mid afternoon, with Sam arriving half an hour later, and Alex had slunk upstairs when the door slammed shut. She remembered how Sam had yelled, but she hadn’t listened for words. She had numbly curled up in the sheets, staring blankly at the wall as she had thought. She must have drifted off.

She threw off the covers and rose to her feet, licking her dry lips and running a hand across her pale face. She could feel the dried tears across her cheeks, and she hurriedly brushed them away. Dean might be dead, but she knew it wouldn’t last.

Hunger drove her downwards, and Alex paused at the bottom of the staircase as she looked around. There didn’t seem to be anybody home, but the desk light in the study was on. Alex crossed the hall to peer into the cluttered room, but it was empty. Where had everyone gone? She stepped back, intending to check for a note in the kitchen, but suddenly she was shoved backwards.

Rough hands pinned her against the wall, and Alex looked up in terror to see Sam Winchester standing over her, his eyes brimming with pain. “What the hell?” he yelled, and Alex shrunk further back into the wall. “You promised that Dean would live!”

“I didn’t —”

“You knew he would die!” Sam slammed her back into the wall, and Alex gasped as the air was forced out of her lungs. “Damn you, Alex! You knew he was going to fucking die, and you wouldn’t even tell us how to save him!” Sam raised a balled fist, ready to strike, and Alex flinched away, eyes squeezed shut as she braced herself for pain.

It never came. Instead, Sam suddenly disappeared, and Alex felt an arm stretch out across her protectively. “Dammit, Sam, leave her alone,” she heard Bobby snap, and she opened her eyes. “It ain’t her fault.”

“Get out of my way, Bobby.” Sam rolled back his shoulders, chin raised, and his eyes burned with fire.

Bobby remained firm. “No.”

“She could have saved Dean!” the Winchester bellowed.

“Yeah, and it would have cost you your own life!” Alex yelled back, her temper flaring defensively. “Lilith isn’t dead, in case you haven’t noticed! There was nothing I could have done —“ Her jaw dropped as she saw something glint in Sam’s hand, and she swallowed nervously as she recognized the large bowie knife.

Bobby shifted back, nudging her away from the wall and towards the back door. “You better leave,” he warned. “Get outside. I’ll take care of Sam.”

Alex didn’t dare protest. She bolted down the hall and out the door, letting it slam behind her as she stumbled across the yard towards the salvaged cars. Despite the warm May air, her hair stood on end. Sam had just tied to kill her.

She slowed to a walk as the house disappeared behind the stacks of cars, and her eyes turned up towards the night sky bright with stars. “Cas?” The name came out softly, a whispered prayer, and the young girl swallowed back tears. “Castiel!” She yelled the name this time, listening as her voice echoed through the night. “I know you’re up there!”

Silence.

“Dammit, Cas!” Her eyes flashed as she stared at the sky. “Answer me! Please! This is about Dean Winchester! Is anyone listening? Uriel? Zachariah? Can any of you hear me?” Her voice cracked with desperation, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to pray harder. “Michael! This is your vessel we’re talking about!”

Once again, silence met her words.

A tear slid down her cheek, and Alex angrily brushed it away. “Castiel, this is important! Apocalypse important. I’m serious. Please, just listen to me! It starts with Dean. In hell. He breaks the first seal! When a righteous man sheds blood in hell? Sound familiar?” She opened her eyes and looked around, but when no one appeared, she threw back her head in defeat. “Why won’t you listen to me?” Anger boiled up beneath her skin, and she brought her fist down on the hood of a rusted car. The action brought pain, and Alex wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as they teared up once again.

“Fine!” she yelled into the night. “You know what? Screw you! Screw you all to hell. You only have a few months before Dean gives in, you hear me? So don’t you dare say I didn’t warn you.” The young girl sat down on the hood of a car, and she crawled up to lean against the windshield as she gazed up at the cold, unyielding stars. “Angels,” she scoffed as she fell into her own thoughts. “I shouldn’t have expected an answer from you anyways.”

 

 **L** ight reflected off of the cars, waking Alex up. She let out a loud groan to find her body stiff, and she slowly rolled off of the hood of the old blue car, wincing as her back cracked loudly. She smoothed down her wrinkled shirt and drew her hair up into a ponytail, and, with one last glance at the red morning sky, she slowly made her way back towards the house.

The Impala was still parked by the door, and so Alex entered slowly, wary of where the younger Winchester might be lurking. She could see Bobby sitting in the kitchen, with another pair of legs across from him, and she reluctantly made her way towards them; better to face the Winchester now, lest she not have the courage to do so later on.

Bobby looked up at her arrival, and he was the first to speak. “Thought you’d left,” he said gruffly.

Alex scoffed. “Of course not. I don’t have anywhere else to go. I just fell asleep on one of the cars outside.” She watched as Sam abruptly rose to his feet and stormed away, and her shoulders fell.

“Ignore him.” Bobby motioned to the chair Sam had vacated, and Alex gratefully took a seat. “It’s been tough for him.”

“It’s been tough for all of us,” Alex corrected, and she cast a look over her shoulder as she lowered her voice. “Listen, Bobby, I hate to ask, but I have to know — why did you guys bury Dean? Most hunters are salted and burned.”

Bobby shrugged. “That’s what I told him, but Sam had his mind set on burying him. I wasn’t gonna argue with him over Dean’s body, so I …” He reached for his glass of whiskey, leaving the rest for Alex to fill in. “He says Dean’s going to need a body when Dean comes back.”

Alex widened her eyes, faking shock at the very idea of Dean’s return. “Comes back?” she repeated as she rose to her feet, and she circled around to the fridge to pull out a Coke. “That sounds like trouble — although that could just be grief talking.”

Bobby shook his head as she returned to the table. “Doubt it. Sam’s not that type of guy. Speaking of grief,” he added when Alex cracked open her can, “how are you doing? I know you didn’t know Dean well, but you still seemed pretty shook up.”

“Not know him?” Alex let out a quiet laugh. “Bobby, I feel like I know Dean pretty well; I’ve seen seven, eight seasons of that show. I know who Dean was, and I know who he’ll become, so I say I know Dean. But no. I haven’t known him personally for very long. But I’m fine.” She reached out to take a sip of her drink, but the image of Dean’s mauled corpse in her mind had her pausing.

Bobby saw, and his face softened. “It couldn’t have been easy, seeing him like that.”

Alex shrugged. “It could’t have been easy for you either,” she responded. “I mean, you’ve known Dean forever — he and Sam, they were like your sons. I …” She wrapped her hands around her Coke, fingers drumming on the thin metal can as she let out a soft breath. “I know what it’s like to watch someone you love die.”

The back door slammed shut, and Alex jumped, eyes going wide as she looked around. “You better be careful around Sam.” Bobby’s eyes darkened as he glanced towards the door. “He’s still pretty pissed at you. Best stay out of his way.”

Alex reached up to rub her sternum, still sore from where Sam had pinned her against the wall. “Yeah,” she muttered, “that was definitely my plan.”

 

 **A** week passed at the Singer house. Everyone was quiet, speaking only when it was absolutely necessary. When Alex wasn’t hiding upstairs, she was plastered to Bobby’s side, too nervous to go too far off on her own. Not with Sam still lurking around the property.

She didn’t know what the Winchester was up to; she would hear him come and go at all hours of the day and night, but no matter how curious she was, she didn’t dare approach him without Bobby at her side. She still had a bruise on her shoulder from where it had hit the wall.

That Monday morning, Alex found herself sitting at the kitchen table, eyes moving between the laptop in front of her and Bobby Singer who sat in the next room. Breakfast was over, and Alex had resigned herself to typing up whatever information she could remember from the show. She knew it she wouldn’t save the document; she didn’t want to risk anybody reading it.

The floor creaked above her, and Alex paused to look up. Sam was upstairs, moving around and slamming doors while doing who knows what. The Winchester hadn’t spoken a word to her in days. Another door slammed, and Alex heard Bobby grunt, displeased at the abuse his house was taking, and the young girl looked up when the stairs creaked under Sam’s weight. She saw a flash of movement as the hunter took off down the hall, and back door slammed shut behind him.

And then the house was quiet.

The Impala roared to life, and Alex rose to her feet as she heard the car speed off into the distance. “Balls,” Bobby cursed, and he ran over to the kitchen window to watch the Impala disappear. “Where does that idjit think he’s off to?”

Alex joined him at the window, and she watched as the black car turned out of the dirt driveway and disappeared from sight. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted, and her shoulders fell as she let out a soft sigh. “But I don’t think that he’s ever coming back.”


	3. Lazarus Rising

**September 18th, 2008**   
**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**F** our months. That was how long Alex lived alone with Bobby Singer. The old, grouchy hunter had welcomed her help with slightly reluctant yet open arms, and when Alex wasn’t working in town, she was in the study, reading and learning. Four months of going over Bobby’s notes had left her well versed in every known supernatural creature under the sky, and she had even picked up bits and pieces of different languages; Latin and Greek had come the most easily to her, but she had picked up a few words in Russian, German, and even Japanese. 

Four months had also given her time to learn about combat. It wasn’t much — despite her eagerness to learn, her small stature left her barely able to take down a full-grown man in hand-to-hand combat, much less a supernaturally strong being — but she felt comfortable wielding the Colt 1911 that Bobby had given to her. 

They heard no word from Sam Winchester. No matter how many times Bobby would call, the hunter would never pick up nor return their messages. Other hunters came into her life, though. Alex got to meet a few of them: Garth was a regular, so were Duncan and Charlie Hayward. There were plenty other hunters who swung by, too many names to keep straight. 

It took four months, but September 18th did finally arrive. Exactly four months after Dean had died. Alex woke up early that morning, too excited to sleep. She skipped down the stairs to find Bobby in the kitchen, breakfast sitting on the counter. “Morning,” she half-sung as she scoured around the kitchen for a clean bowl. 

Bobby Singer looked up from the thick book he was reading. “You’re chipper today. It your birthday? Anniversary of some kind?” he added when Alex shook her head. 

“Course not.” Alex let out a light, teasing laugh as she dug around for some cereal. She had learned to look past the hunter’s grouchy attitude in the past few months, and she liked to think that the two of them had grown close. 

That thought was partially confirmed by the small smile that Bobby gave her. “Yeah, well, something’s up. So what is it?” 

“I can’t tell you. But it’s big.” Alex went over to the fridge, and her shoulders fell. “Dude, who drank all the milk? I just bought a new gallon a few days ago.” She slammed the door shut with a frown. Looks like she was going into town early. 

She hurried back up the stairs and slipped into her room — her own, personal room that she had converted from a book storage room — to get dressed. After realizing four months ago she was staying with Bobby, she had gone out and boughten new clothes; however a large portion of her wardrobe still consisted of Dean’s old shirts and jackets. She pulled on a pair of faded jeans and a black t-shirt and fastened her necklace around her neck before she hurried back down the stairs.

“Going to the store?” Bobby guessed from the table. “Grab some beer while you’re out. I put in an order with Jacob so he knows you’re coming.” The phone rang, and the hunter got up to answer it, leaving Alex to roll her eyes and step outside. 

She walked over to her car, a 1971 Marquis, but she paused near the door, tipping her head to look up at the sky. The air was a bit chilly for just a t-shirt, and she turned around to head back to the house. 

“Call one more time and I’ll kill you!” Bobby’s loud, booming voice reached her ears as she stepped back in through the front door, and Alex frowned; she had rarely seen Bobby get angry like that. 

“Who was it?” she inquired as she grabbed Dean’s leather jacket off of the hooks on the wall. 

“Some jackass claiming to be Dean.” Grief flashed through Bobby’s eyes, followed by something like a curious hope. 

Alex could feel that he was waiting for her to say something, and she cleared her throat. “Sorry to hear that,” she lied, and she turned away before another flash of excitement could be seen on her face. Today was definitely the day. 

She shrugged on the leather jacket — it was one of her favorite jackets, warm and heavy against her shoulders, and it smelled faintly like leather and cinnamon and gunpowder underneath the fading smell of Winchester. True, the jacket was three sizes too big, but she loved it all the same. 

She climbed into her Marquis and started the engine, pausing only briefly to plug her phone into the cassette adapter she had boughten for the old car. Avenged Sevenfold erupted from the speakers, and the girl threw the car into drive and took off down the road. 

She kept the windows up as she rolled into town; it was still early in the morning, and common sense told her that no one wanted to be woken up by her music. And the last thing she needed was trouble with Sheriff Jody Mills. For the past four months, that sheriff seemed to be everywhere she turned; being Bobby’s so-proclaimed distant niece — or something like that — had made her number one on Mills’ watch list. 

She recognized the brown, decorated truck as she pulled into the Hy-Vee parking lot, and she let out a loud groan as she rolled her eyes. Speak of the devil herself. 

Alex slipped out of her Marquis and ran through the list in her head. Milk and bagels; that’s all she needed right now. Get into the story and get out without detection. She closed her eyes as hot air blew across her face as she stepped through the sliding doors, and the young girl immediately slipped off to the right. So far so good. 

She snagged bagels out of the freezer and picked up a gallon of milk, and she had taken three steps towards the self-checkout before she visibly flinched. “Alex.” Jody Mills walked up behind her, and the young girl reluctantly turned around. “You’re out early. Running some errands?” 

“Yeah.” Alex glanced down at the food in her hands, and with a heavy sigh, she added, “I’m running over to Jacob’s afterwards, too …” She watched how Jody’s lips twisted into a frown. Jacob Barkley ran the liquor store in the strip mall across the street, and Alex and Jody had had a special agreement about the minor’s transportation of alcohol to Bobby Singer's home ever since the first day they had met. It wasn’t an agreement either were pleased about, but it made their lives easier.

Jody’s frown quickly faded. “I’ll come with you,” she decided as she shifted her paper grocery bag onto her other hip. 

Alex didn’t bother to argue. She led the way over to the checkout machines, shoulders hunching over as she scanned her food. Her day had just hit its low point. She fed cash into the machine before she gathered up her things and led the way out of the grocery store. “How’s Sean?” she asked, pausing beside her car to drop off her groceries. 

The young girl watched Jody’s face carefully as the sheriff thought of her answer. Sean was her husband; Alex had met him twice down at the station, but she knew he was still having a difficult time getting over their son Owen’s death, who had died only seven months ago. “He’s doing alright,” Jody finally said, her voice light and casual. “He’s still working as a biotech over at Merck. How about Bobby? I haven’t seen him in almost a week.” 

Alex peered both ways down the street before she led the way across. “He’s improving,” she began cryptically. “But I think things are going to turn around for him pretty soon. Just a feeling that I have.”

She pushed her way into Barkley’s shop, Jody close at her tail. “Jacob?” the sheriff called. “You home? We’ve got an order to pick up.” 

“Jody.” A wiry man peeked up from behind a counter, brown eyes sparkling in recognition. “And Alex. Ah, yes. Bobby called me this morning.” He motioned to a large paper bag that sat beside him, but Alex could see the concern in his eyes as his gaze moved between the two women in his shop, focusing primarily on the sheriff. 

“Thanks.” Alex dug her cash out of pocket and moved forward to drop it on the counter beside the bag. She hefted it up onto her hip, frowning as she heard bottles clink together. “Hopefully Bobby will have enough free time to pick up the next order.” 

“Tell him I said hi!” Jacob’s voice faded into the distance as Alex pushed her way back out, and Jody followed close behind. 

They crossed the street without a word, but Jody stayed by her side even as Alex stopped by her car and opened the back door. “I’ll be fine.” Alex rolled her eyes as she slid the bag onto the floor of the backseat. “I’ve been doing this for months, Sheriff,” she added, straightening up and closing the door. “If you’re still upset, you know you’re completely allowed to accompany me back to Bobby’s.” 

Jody’s line pursed in a tight line, but Alex didn’t shy away; she knew the sheriff’s answer. It would be the same as it always was. “No, not today. I have to get down to the station and look over yesterday’s reports. I’ll swing by at the end of the week again and check up on you two,” she added as she turned towards her car. “Go on. I trust you.” 

_Clearly not as much as you’re letting on_. The young girl let out a quiet sigh and dug her keys out of her pocket, only sliding in and turning on her car after she watched Jody drive away. The things she put up with in this town. 

 

**T** he sun was up above the trees by the time she pulled up into the long, dusty road that led up to the Singer Salvage Yard. A bird strayed here and there, it’s thin song breaking through the still September air. Alex parked her car beside the back door to the old blue house and carried the groceries in towards the kitchen. “Bobby?” she called, kicking the door closed behind her. “I’m home. Got your booze.” 

There was no response, and the young girl shrugged. Only God knew where that man was. She slid the brown bag onto the counter and quickly wolfed down a bowl of cereal. The house around her was still, and she kept her ears perked for any sign of the hunter. But there was nothing. Not a footstep, not a creaking floorboard. 

She tossed her dish into the sink, a small frown on her lips. If he wasn’t in the house, then the old hunter had to be out working somewhere in the yard. 

She stepped back outside, drawing Dean’s oversized leather jacket tightly around her waist as a cold wind pushed through the trees. Bobby’s rusted, old Charger lay off to the side, so the hunter probably didn’t go far. Unless he took one of his other beaten up automobiles, he had to be somewhere nearby. 

She ran her fingers over the glossy blue paint of her Marquis as she paused. Sunlight glinted off of the side, and Alex tapped the hood twice. It was her car; Bobby had agreed to let her have it when a truck had hauled it in, rusted and old. But she had fixed it — true, Bobby had helped her with most of it, but she had insisted upon doing as much of the work as she possibly could. 

She dragged her hand along the body as she moved forward. It was a beautiful car, long and sleek. She had installed leather seats, and Bobby had helped her put a false bottom in the trunk, just like he had done for John Winchester. A perfect addition if it ever became a hunting car — although with Bobby’s strictness on her involvement in that life, part of her doubted that would ever become a reality. 

She continued on into the maze of old rusted cars, making her way towards the large shed that had been converted to a garage. She could hear the metallic clank of a wrench as she drew closer, and she spotted the old hunter crouched down beside a mangled Ford. “Hey,” she greeted, and Bobby looked up. 

“Hey,” he grunted back. “Bout time. What took you so long?” 

Alex huffed at his tone. “I made great time,” she retorted. “The only thing that slowed me down was that damn sheriff. I never would have gotten into all this mess with her if you’d just get up off your lazy ass and buy your own beer.”

“No point in both of us making a trip.” Bobby rose to his feet and brushed off his hands with an oily rag. “And in case you were wondering, I spent all night tracking down lore on a damn chupacabra off-shoot. I was lucky to get in an hour of sleep while you were chatting with Mills.” 

Alex rolled her eyes, but didn’t dare press the subject. “I’ll be back in the woods,” was all she said. “My phone’s on me if you need anything.” She turned to move off back through the cars, reaching into her pocket to pull out her knife, but Bobby’s voice had her pausing. 

“Don’t go too far. Charlie called when you were out. He’s bringing in something he found, and I’ll need your help.”

Alex waved her hand in understanding before she moved off beyond the cars. She crawled over the rotting wooden fence into the woods that lay beyond, and she slowed her pace as she moved among the trees. A large pine lay ahead of her, its large branches stretched wide. It was the young girl’s favorite, her small hideaway from the rest of the world. Not even Bobby came beyond the fence. 

She sat down at the base of the pine, settling down among the roots. She pulled her knife out of her pocket and flicked it open, watching how the blade caught in the light. A flick of the wrist had the knife flying through the air, embedding itself into a nearby tree with a twang. 

Alex rose to her feet to retrieve it, brushing her finger over the wood as she did so, marred from months of practice. She lifted her head at the sound of an approaching car, and she squinted to make out the road through the trees. A black minivan sped by, and the girl’s shoulders fell. Eight hours. It was eight hours from Pontiac to Sioux Falls. She had eight hours to kill. 

 

**T** he day ticked by _very_ slowly. Alex returned to the house as the morning grew into the afternoon, but she couldn’t stand still. She paced through the study, through the kitchen, up the stairs and to her room, and then back down to start all over. Her mind whirled with excitement and trepidation, and her footsteps fell faster and louder. 

“Hey!” Bobby stuck his head around the corner of the hall as Alex was making her way back to the study. The girl pulled up short, head tipped as the hunter added, “What’s up with you? You’ve been on edge all day.” 

“I’m fine.” Alex toed at the corner of the rug. “Just waiting.” 

“Well, go wait outside,” he snapped. “I’m trying to figure out what the hell Charlie just hauled in, and your damn pacing is getting on my nerves.” He pushed his way past her to move into the study, and Alex stalked out the back door to leave the grouchy hunter in peace. She snagged three bottles out of the recycling box on her way from the house, and hurried over to line them up on the hood of a rusted, battered pickup. Then she retreated several paces and pulled her gun out of the back of her jeans. In one swift movement she flicked off the safety and brought the handgun up, expelling a harsh breath from her nose as she steadied her hand. 

Four shots rang out through the air, and the three bottles shattered. 

“Hey!” Bobby stuck his head out of the house. “Knock it off! I was saving those.” 

“For what?” Alex scoffed under her breath, and she rolled her eyes as she reluctantly cleared her gun. 

“If you’re so bored, get in here and take a look at what I found. It’s up your alley, or something.” Bobby pointed back through the door and down the basement stairs, and Alex reluctantly stomped inside. 

The old hunter didn’t followed her down the stairs, and she let out a sharp breath at the scent of an open body cavity that smelled painfully like raw beef. Disgusting. She circled around the humanoid figure that lay on the steel table, but her mind was elsewhere. She barely took in the organized mess of intestines, lungs, and various other organs that lay before her, and almost missed the oversized pair of adrenal glands that sat just above the kidneys.

Her interest peaked ever so slightly at the sight of them, and she peeled back the lips in search of fangs. There was four, each sliding over the incisors when Alex gently pressed upon the gums; too few to be a vampire. Beneath the eyelids lay a pair of bright red eyes with two irises. “Interesting.” She turned to Bobby standing at the base of the stairs. “What is it?” 

Bobby shrugged. “My best guess is an Iktomi. Native American creature; imagine if Loki and a black window had a kid, that would be this thing. Crafty sons of bitches. Most of the lore comes from the Lakotas, but they usually don’t stray out of the mountains”

“Weird,” Alex half agreed. With the mystery solved, she once again felt excitement itch beneath her skin, but she forced herself to ask, “How do you kill it?”

“Book’s upstairs. Go see if you can figure it out.” Bobby shooed her upstairs, and Alex rolled her eyes. Clearly, he knew how to kill it; the creature was already dead. He was just trying to keep her occupied. However, she complied and made her way upstairs, feet dragging behind her. She slumped onto the black couch and dragged a heavy book into her lap — which was thankfully written in English. She pulled Dean’s jacket tighter around her and settled down into the pillows. 

 

**T** here was a knock on the door, and Alex looked up in surprise. Her eyes darted up to the clock: three in the afternoon. She watched Bobby hurry over to the front door, and she jumped to her feet, eager to see what lay beyond the door. 

She slipped down the hall, heart thumping in her chest to see Bobby standing there with the door open, all emotion wiped completely from his face. From behind the white door came a soft, deep voice, wretched with emotion. “Surprise.” 

Alex circled around to see the man who stood in front of them. Short, brown hair and a dirty face that held a pair of bright green eyes. She recognized the man immediately as Dean Winchester. She stepped forward, a smile lighting up her face, but Bobby reached out to hold her back. “I don’t …” he breathed. 

“Yeah, me either,” the Winchester agreed. “But here I am.” He stepped through the front door, and Bobby and Alex moved back to give him room. Bobby shifted further backwards, his hand going out behind him, and Alex flinched away when it suddenly flew forward through the air, a silver knife gleaming viciously. 

Dean barely ducked in time, and the girl jumped away to avoid the struggle that followed as both tried to wrestle for possession the knife. “Bobby, stop!” she begged, voice lifted high over the chaos. 

Dean was shoved past her and landed in the kitchen, and Alex jolted as Bobby roughly shoved her back. “Get behind me,” he growled out. 

“Bobby, it’s me!” Dean insisted, and Alex echoed his statement, but Bobby paid her no heed. 

“My ass,” he snapped, and he adjusted his grip on the knife as he advanced into the kitchen, slow and calculated. 

The Winchester backpedaled, stumbling to stay on his feet, and his hands flew up in defense. “Y-Your name is Robert Steven Singer,” he got out, frantically searching his mind for facts. “You became a hunter after your wife got possessed. You — you’re the closest thing I have to family.” He looked up into Bobby’s eyes as the hunter froze, and his voice lost its desperate pace. “Bobby, it’s me.”

Bobby’s shoulders fell, and he stepped forward, a tentative hand going out in disbelief to rest on Dean’s solid shoulder. Dean visibly relaxed, and his green eyes slid over to rest upon Alex, who was still standing just outside the kitchen. He opened his mouth to speak, but Alex let out a cry as Bobby’s hand tightened on the handle of his knife. “Look out!” she yelled as Bobby swung the knife. 

Dean reeled backwards, barely avoiding the blade, and he lunged forward to wrestle it away from Bobby. “I’m not a shifter,” he pleaded. 

“Then you’re a revenant!” 

Dean wrenched the weapon out of the hunters hands, and Bobby immediately stepped away, moving in front of Alex to protect her. Dean, however, made no movements to advance. “If I was either, could I do this?” he challenged, and he rolled up his sleeve of his jacket. He dragged the blade across his forearm, grimacing as the silver cut into his skin, but otherwise remained unharmed. 

Bobby stared at Dean, his mouth open. “Dean?” he finally stammered out. 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Dean stepped forward, extending his arms out wide. The old hunter only hesitated a second before he pulled Dean into a large hug. 

“It’s good to see you, boy,” he said as he broke the hung and stepped away, and Alex felt a grin grow across her face at the warmness in his voice. 

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, “you too.” 

“But … how’d you bust out?” Bobby turned to look down at Alex, but the young girl pretended to ignore him, gaze focused on Dean instead. 

“I don’t know.” Dean looked down at the floor as he contemplated his answer. “All I know was I woke up in a pine box —” He cut off as holy water hit him in the face, and the Winchester looked up with a frown. “I’m not a demon either, you know,” he added, spitting whatever holy water had found its way into his mouth onto the ground. 

Bobby shrugged. “Sorry. Can’t be too careful.” 

Dean’s frown deepened for a second, and then he turned his eyes onto Alex. “You, uh, you’re still here, huh?” 

“Yeah.” Alex let out half a smile. “I’m still here.” She reached over to the counter and handed Dean an old green-and-white checkered dish towel, and he gratefully took it. 

“She’s been quite a bit of help, too,” Bobby added before he turned and walked into the study, motioning for Dean and Alex to follow. “But tell you what. It — you — don’t make a lick of sense. Your chest was ribbons, Dean. Your insides were slop. And you’ve been buried four months,” the hunter added as he leaned up against the desk. “Even if you managed to crawl out of Hell …”

“You’d look like a Thriller video reject,” Alex finished, stealing the words right out of Dean’s mouth. The Winchester turned to look at her, but the young girl only shrugged innocently. 

“So, what do you remember?” Bobby asked, drawing Dean’s attention back onto him. 

“Not much.” Dean slung the dish towel over his shoulder. “I remember being a hellhound’s chew toy, then lights out. Then I came to six feet under.” He glanced at Alex, and the young girl narrowed her eyes slightly in accusation, aware of how his eyes flickered slightly at his lies. “By the way,” he added quickly lest Alex speak up, “Sam’s number isn’t working. He, he’s not …”

“No, he’s alive,” Bobby promised. “As far as I know.” 

Dean’s eyes fell closed in relief for a moment, but then they snapped back open, “Wait. What do you mean ‘as far as you know’?”

“I haven’t seen him in months,” the old hunter admitted as he leaned up against the desk. “One day, he was just gone.”

“You didn’t keep an eye on him?” Dean’s eyes flashed with anger. “Bobby!” 

“Hey!” Bobby retorted sharply. “These last few months haven’t been easy. For any of us. We had to bury you,” he reminded. 

Dean’s fury lessened. “Yeah. Why, uh, why did you bury me?” 

The grouchy old hunter gave a small shrug, and his eyes locked with Alex for a short moment. She couldn’t hold his gaze for long, and he said, “I wanted you salted and burned, but Sam refused.” 

“Well, I supposed I can thank him for that,” Dean joked dryly, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms, but Bobby wasn’t finished. 

“He said you would need a body when he got you out somehow.” 

The Winchester’s gaze darkened, and his arms fell down to his side. “What did he mean?” 

“That was all he said. He was quiet. Real quiet. At least afterwards …” Bobby trailed off and glanced at Alex, and the young girl visibly flinched at his implications. She felt Dean’s eyes come to rest on her, and she looked away, scuffing the ground with her toes. 

“Well?” Dean’s voice was cold, and Alex looked up in surprise. 

“It wasn’t my fault,” she insisted in protest. 

“What do you mean?” Dean turned to Bobby. “What does she mean? What the hell happened to Sam?” 

“Sam and Alex didn’t get along too well after you went.” Bobby reached behind him to pick up a half-empty glass of scotch. “He blamed Alex for your death, and …” He trailed off, gathering his thoughts. “I caught Sam about to beat the shit out of Alex. He probably would have killed her if I hadn’t stepped in. Then he just got up and left.” 

Dean said nothing for several long seconds. The young girl winced, waiting for a scathing comment, but when he spoke, his tone was far more amiable. “So, she’s been with you for the past four months, huh?”

“Yup.” Bobby downed the last of his scotch before he placed the glass down on the desk. “Like I said, she’s been quite a bit of help. Bit of a natural when it comes to the books, plus it’s been nice having the extra hands around the yard.”

Dean turned to Alex. “Is that my jacket?” he asked, and the girl blushed as she looked down at the oversized leather jacket. “And my shirt?” 

“Probably.” Alex pulled on the hem of the grey t-shirt, frowning when she discovered an oil stain near the hem. “Although this one’s a little dirty. Sorry.” 

Dean turned to the other hunter, shoulders falling in exasperation. “Bobby.” 

Bobby let out a huff. “What? It ain’t like you were using them. And it was cheaper then buying her a whole new wardrobe.” 

Dean rolled his eyes, but he turned back to Alex. “So. Been learning about cars, huh? Got any that run?” 

“Um, yeah.” Pride pulsed through her, and she lifted up her chin. “I’ve been working on a 1971 Marquis. You should take a look at it. I think I did a good job —”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to be needing the keys.” Dean held out his hands, and Alex’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Sam got me out of hell, all right. But whatever he did, it was bad mojo.” He let out a deep breath as he thought back to his resurrection. “You should have seen the gravesite,” he told Bobby. “Like a nuke went off. And then there was this force, this presence, that blew past me at this Phillip joint. And then there was this.” Dean shrugged off his dirty green jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his black tee to reveal a large, raised handprint, like a massive burn on his shoulder. 

Bobby straightened up, his blue eyes going wide. “What in the hell?” 

“It’s like a demon yanked me out of hell,” Dean explained darkly. “Or rode me out.” 

Alex snorted at his explanation, already well aware of how wrong he was. “Yeah, something like that,” she muttered, but the two hunters didn’t hear, too deeply enthralled in their own conversation. 

“But why?” Bobby was asking. 

“To hold up their part of the bargain,” he said darkly, and he rolled his sleeve back down over the mark as his gaze fell angrily onto the floor.

Bobby was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, he spoke quietly. “You think Sam made a deal?”

“It’s what I would have done.” Dean looked up, and green eyes met blue as the two hunters stared at each other. 

The silence continued to lengthen until Alex gained the courage to break in. “Well, demon deal or not, I guess we need to go find Sam. I have some clean clothes upstairs for you, Dean, if you want to change first,” she added. “Me and Bobby will pack what we need in the meantime.”

Dean nodded and left the room, tossing the dish towel over the back of a chair as he exited, and Bobby turned his attention to her. “So this is why you were so excited this morning, huh?” 

“Yup.” Alex crossed over to the couch and closed the book she had intended to read so she could sit down on the leather seat. “And it was pretty exciting, right?” 

The faintest hint of a frown slid across the hunter’s face. “You could have told me, you know. I almost killed him.” 

“Yeah, but where would be the fun in telling you?” Alex laughed to show she was joking, but when Bobby didn’t join in, she let her shoulders fall in a sigh. “We’ve been over this before. There will be times when I _can’t_ tell you what’s going to happen, no matter how much I want to. I … I don’t want worse things to happen.”

Indecision danced across the old hunter’s face before he reluctantly relented. “I know. But it’s damn hard just to trust you like that.” 

“Yeah. Believe me, it’s no easier on this end.” Alex got up and pulled her Colt 1911 out of her jeans and walked into the kitchen to place it on the small table. She pulled open the fridge and pulled out two beers, and, after a second’s thought, a Coke for herself. “Here.” She tossed one to Bobby, who had come to join her, and then handed the second to Dean as he reentered the room. 

Dean cracked it open, clearly grateful as he took a very long drink, and Alex leaned against the counter as she took a sip of her Coke. “Hey. This yours?” Dean pointed to the gun on the table, and Alex gave a small nod. 

“Yeah,” she verbally agreed. “Bobby gave it to me. I’ve gotten pretty good with it, too, I think.” 

“Too bad we don’t hunt beer bottles,” Bobby quipped back, and Dean chuckled in amusement. Alex, however, frowned, not fond of his teasing in front of the Winchester that she was trying to impress. She slipped out of the room when Bobby started to tell Dean about the Iktomi they had in the basement, choosing that opportunity to run upstairs and pack. 

She grabbed her duffle bag out of the corner of her closet and tossed it on her bed before turning to her closet to pick out the clothes she wanted to bring. She still didn’t own much, but she threw in an extra pair of jeans and a few t-shirts of both hers and Dean’s. Her computer was laid on top, alongside its charger, and she shoved her phone into her back pocket before she hurried back downstairs, bag in hand. 

The hunters stopped talking as she entered; both had returned to the study, and Dean had his phone out. All eyes turned onto her, but Alex ignored them. “So, we off?” she asked, not curious enough to ask what secrets they were keeping from her. 

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Dean abruptly rose to his feet. “Just let me grab some stuff.” He hurried out of the room, and Alex watched him go. 

“What’s biting him?” she murmured after him. Bobby stood up as well, and she turned back to him. “So what’s up? Do you guys have any idea where Sam is?” 

“Yeah, he’s, uh, he’s in Pontiac, Illinois. Dean tracked his phone.” Bobby’s eyes darted around the room, refusing to rest on her, and Alex’s lips fell downwards into a frown. They were obviously hiding something, but right now she didn’t care. She heard footsteps come down the stairs and she turned to see Dean reappearing, beer in hand, with a bag slung over his shoulder. “Alright. Me and Bobby will be off, then.” 

The Winchester turned to leave, and Alex’s eyes went wide. “Wait wait wait. What about me?” Alex spun around in protest. “Bobby!” 

The older man shrugged. “Sorry, girl. I tried to talk you into it.” 

“There is no way I’m staying behind.” Alex crossed her arms and turned to Dean, lips pursed in a tight line as she sized up the hunter. 

“Well, you’re not coming with either,” Dean said, his tone sharp enough to put an end to the conversation. “We’re in a hurry, so I can’t have you slowing us down. And whatever the hell kind of demon this thing is, it’s not going to spare you just cause you’re all cute and cuddly.” 

He turned to go, and Alex clenched her fists in anger as they fell down to her side. However, her voice came out steady and calm. “It’s not a demon.” 

Those four words were enough to stop the Winchester in his tracks. He turned back, guarded interest sparkling in his eyes. “Oh yeah?” he challenged. “Then what is it?” 

“Can I come?” 

“Hell no.” 

Alex set her jaw angrily, glancing over at Bobby, but the hunter didn’t step in to help. “What if I told you it’s something that you’ve never met before?” she asked, hoping her cryptic answers would be enough to get her a ride. 

Dean let out a disbelieving laugh. “Try me.” 

“Alright.” The young girl crossed her arms. “I’ll give you a hint. It can kill a demon in one touch.” 

The Winchester took a step towards her, and Alex bit back a grin of triumph to find his attention fully on her. “The same …?” Alex nodded, hopes rising as Dean exchanged a long look with Bobby. “Fine.” Dean threw up his hands in defeat, and the grin she had been holding back came into full view. “You can come. Get in the car.” 

 

**A** lex stared out at the setting sun, watching how the passing trees cast shadows on the road. She was sitting in the passenger seat beside Dean, who had been driving in a frustrated silence ever since they had left Sioux Falls. All of his cassettes were in the Impala, and between the crappy music on the radio and his missing brother, he had fallen into something of a foul mood. To make matters worse, Alex was pretty sure he wasn’t pleased to find her riding with him instead of Bobby. “So.” Dean broke the silence, and Alex looked up in surprise. “What have you been up to lately?” 

“Um, nothing big, really.” Alex turned her attention back out the window, and she ran her fingertips across the leather seat. “I fixed up this car, for starters. Helped around the salvage yard. Bobby’s been teaching me about hunting — mostly the book stuff, but I can use a gun, a knife. I know a little hand-to-hand.” She glanced back at her bag in the backseat where her gun lay on top. “Otherwise … I got a few jobs in town to, you know, help out a bit.” She shrugged. “It was mostly quiet after you died. I avoided Sam after he tried to gut me, and after he left … I guess things just settled down a bit.” 

“Huh.” Dean grunted in acknowledgement, and Alex dared to look up into his face. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” she murmured. “You have no idea how much I wish I could have saved you. I just … I didn’t know how to save the both of you.” 

Dean shook his head. “I’m back now,” he said. “That’s all that matters.”

Alex bit her tongue from pointing out that it wasn’t all quite behind them yet, instead choosing to admit, “But you remember hell. And that’s why I’m sorry.” 

She looked away as Dean closed his eyes, and the car fell silent. “Well, I’m back,” he finally repeated. “It’s too late to change any of that now.” A pop song crackled through the radio, and Dean slammed his palm onto the steering wheel. “Dammit,” he cursed under his breath. “I miss my car.” 

“Here.” Alex dug through the glovebox and pulled out a cassette adapter. “I don’t have any Guns n Roses on my phone, but I have modern rock.” She stuck the adapter into the stereo and scrolled through her playlists. “How do you feel about Breaking Benjamin?” 

The Winchester grunted as he thought. “Never heard of them,” he finally admitted. “Who are like? Iron Maiden?” 

“Not quite.” Alex couldn’t hold back a short burst of laughter, and she shuffled through her playlist. She leaned back in her seat as music poured through the speakers, and she turned her head away, losing herself in the guitar as their conversation died.

 

**Pontiac, Illinois**

**T** hey arrived at their destination late that night. After a few manipulative questions were asked to the woman at the front desk, Alex found herself standing in the hallway in front of room 207 of the Astoria Motel. Dean and Bobby stood in front of her, and as she watched, the Winchester reached up and rapped soundly on the door. It took only a second to unlock, and the three found themselves face to face with a young, dark-haired woman wearing only a light tank top and underwear. 

Alex raised her eyebrows at the sight, and she felt a faint blush spread across her face. Clearly the two men in front of her felt the same embarrassment, and when the silence lengthened, the woman asked, “So … where is it?” 

“W-Where’s what?” Dean stuttered slightly in confusion. 

“The pizza … that takes two guys to deliver?” The woman shot Alex a puzzled look. “And a teenager?” 

“Uh, I think we’re in the wrong room.” Dean and Bobby quickly turned away and started walking back down the hall, pushing past Alex, who was still frozen on the spot. When the woman didn’t move, Alex took a shuffled step back. 

Seeing Alex wasn’t following, Dean and Bobby turned back around just in time to see a tall figure step into view. “Hey, is …” Sam Winchester trailed off when he saw Alex, and his eyes hardened. Only a second later, however, they went wide with shock as he saw Bobby standing beside his dead brother. 

Dean stepped forward, pushing past Alex to stand in front of Sam. “Heya, Sammy,” he began quietly, his voice heavy with emotion. He moved into the room, and Sam stepped back to give him plenty of space, his jaw slack. His gaze flickered over to Bobby, searching for any answers he could find. Suddenly, without warning, he lunged at Dean, a silver knife flashing through the air, and Dean barely was able to deflect the blow before it could plunge into his chest. Bobby rushed forward, and he wrenched the knife out of Sam’s grasp before wrapping his arms around the hunter to hold him back. 

“Who are you?!” Sam yelled, struggling against Bobby’s strong hold. 

“Like you didn’t do this!” Dean yelled back, sudden, defensive anger flashing through his green eyes. 

Sam scoffed. “Do what?” 

“It’s really him,” Bobby insisted in Sam’s ear, voice strained with the effort of keeping the monster of a Winchester restrained. “I’ve been through all of this already, it’s really him.” 

Sam fell still, and his face went blank as he stared at his brother. “What …” he breathed out in disbelief. 

“I know. I look fantastic, huh?” Dean let out a half-smile, and Sam took a step forward. He hesitated only a second before he pulled Dean into a tight hug. Alex slipped quietly into the room, and she could see how Sam’s eyes were squeezed tight, on the verge of tears. 

The young woman who had been standing at the door finally spoke up. “So, are you guys, like, together?” 

Alex coughed, trying to cover up a snort of laughter, and Dean turned to the woman, eyebrows knit together in confusion as he noticed how she was still there. Sam stepped away from his brother. “What? No, no. T-This is my brother.” 

The woman blinked, an apologetic look spreading across her face. “Uh, I got it, I guess.” She looked at the four of them. “I should probably go.” 

She disappeared off into the bathroom when Sam agreed, “Yeah, yeah. That’s probably a good idea. Sorry.” He waited for the woman to return, who, when she did, was wearing a pair of shorts and a blue plaid button-down. The Winchester hurried over to open the door for her. 

“Well, call me,” she said in a hopeful tone as she stepped out into the hallway. 

Sam’s eyes flickered back towards Dean, and he added distantly, “Yeah, sure thing, Kathy.” 

“Kirsty.” The woman corrected him with a hurt frown, and Alex let out another bout of cough-concealed laughter. Sam waved her off with a, “Right,” as he closed the door, and the air immediately grew thick as he turned back to face his brother. Sam crossed the room and sat down in a chair, motioning for the three to do the same. 

Dean, however, just crossed his arms. “So, what did it cost?” 

“The girl?” Sam let out a chuckle at the strange question. “I don’t pay, Dean.” His gaze slid over to Alex as she moved to sit down on the couch across from him. His gaze grew cold as she sat down, and the young girl slowly rose back to her feet and slunk off to stand by Bobby. 

Dean’s frown deepened, unamused by his brother’s jokes. “That’s not funny, Sam,” he snapped. “To bring me back. What’d it cost? Your soul … or something worse?” 

Sam’s hazel eyes widened in surprise, and he looked between Dean and Bobby before his eyebrows knit together in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “You think I made a deal?” 

Dean’s stance hardened. “That’s exactly what I think.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Sam let out a nervous laugh as tension gathered in the room, and Alex shifted nervously, afraid to even breathe lest the tension break in an explosion of Dean’s temper. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Dean’s words came out as a growl, and Alex watched as his fingers tightened around his bicep as Sam continued in his denial. 

“I’m not lying—”

His brother ignored him. “So what now?” Dean took a menacing step towards his brother. “I’m off the hook and you’re on, is that it? You’re some demon’s bitch-boy? I don’t want to be saved like this.” 

Sam jumped to his feet, anger flashing darkly in his eyes as he finally raised his voice. “Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, alright?” 

Dean grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt, and the two’s eyes locked in a deadly stare down. “There’s not other way this could have happened,” Dean spat. “Right, Alex?” He whipped his head around to stare at the teenage girl, whose eyes went wide to find herself in the middle of the Winchester’s fight. “It was Sam, wasn’t it?” 

It took a minute for her to find her voice, but she eventually mustered up the courage to shake her head. “Sorry. I — uh, I’m going to have to side with, uh, with Sam. I’m sure he tried, but what demon in its right mind would make a deal with him, right?” She looked the Winchester up and down, gaining confidence as the glittering anger in Dean’s eyes diminished, albeit it only slightly. “Beside, what demon would even want to pull Dean Winchester out of hell?” 

“She’s right.” Sam tore himself out of his brother’s grasp and shoved him away. “I tried everything. Hell, I even tried opening the Devil’s Gate. No demon wanted to deal with me. You were rotting in hell for _months_ , Dean. And I couldn’t save you.” Sam paused as his voice cracked, and his shoulders fell as he let out a long, painful breath. “I’m sorry it wasn’t me, alright? I’m sorry.” 

Dean stepped back, and Alex could see the conflict that was battling inside his emerald green eyes. It took several seconds, but eventually his posture softened. “It’s okay, Sammy,” he began, his voice taut with a tense apology. “You don’t have to apologize. I believe you.” 

“Don’t get me wrong — I’m gladdened that Sam’s soul is still intact,” Bobby pointed out, finally speaking up, “but that does raise a sticky question.” 

“If he didn’t pull me out, then who did?” Dean finished. The room fell silent; no one seemed to have an answer. 

The quiet was only broken by a steady knock on the door. Sam looked up in surprise, and, with a hand going down to the back of his jeans, he cautiously made his way over to the door, fingers tightening on the handle of his gun. The door opened, and Alex heard the word, “Pizza,” muttered from out in the hallway. Unsure what else to do, Alex walked over to retrieve the food. 

Sam begrudgingly handed her the box, and, after paying the acne-ridden teenage boy, slammed the door shut. “Hungry?’ Alex called, opening up the box to pull off a oily piece of sausage. 

There was no answer, and the young girl looked up in time to see Sam returning to Dean and Bobby, three beer bottles in his hand. “So, what exactly were you doing around here if you weren’t digging up my grave?” Dean asked rather pointedly as he took a seat upon the worn brown couch. Bobby joined him, graciously accepting a beer from Sam with a low grunt. 

Sam shrugged and sat back down in his chair. “Well, once I figured I couldn’t save you, I started hunting down Lilith, you know, trying to get some payback.” He cracked open his beer, and Alex slowly approached, pausing only as Bobby’s temper finally flared. 

“All by yourself. Who do you think you are, your old man?” he snapped, and Sam ducked his head in apology. Alex tiptoed closer and set the pizza down on the coffee table, but, seeing the couch too occupied even for her small form, took up residence on the thin and frayed carpet. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry, Bobby. I should have called. I was pretty messed up.” Sam’s voice was soft with a sincere apology. 

Dean, whose attention had been directed to the mess of blankets behind the couch, reached down and hooked his finger around a small article of clothing. When he held it up for all to see, Alex gave a roll of her eyes and dropped her gaze onto their food. “Yeah,” the Winchester scoffed. “I really feel your pain.” He waved the pink bra around for emphasis before he let it fall back onto the floor. 

Alex chanced a look up at Sam, who was intently studying his beer in an attempt to rid the faint blush across his cheeks. “ _Anyways_ ,” he started, “I was checking these demons out in Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left, booked it up here.” 

Dean looked up, bra forgotten. “When?” 

“Yesterday morning.”

Dean exchanged a meaningful glance with Bobby Singer. “When I busted out,” he said quietly, and Alex gave a small nod of agreement. 

“What, you think those demons are here cause of you?” Bobby asked, and Sam added a, “But why?” immediately after. 

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. Some badass demon drags me out and now this? It’s got to be connected somehow.” He tipped his head back as he took a long swig of his beer, clearly content with his answer. 

Alex, however only rolled her eyes. It seemed that, no matter how many times she had told him it wasn’t a demon, no one was listening. Dean was too set on this thing being a demon to hear any word otherwise; his curiosity at the thing that 'could kill a demon with one touch' seemed to have faded away. She shook her head; they would figure it out on their own soon enough. 

“How you feeling, anyways?” Bobby’s voice brought Alex back out of her thoughts, and her attention fell on the eldest Winchester. 

Dean’s shoulders rose and fell slightly. “A bit hungry,” he admitted after a second, and his eyes darted down to the pizza in front of them. His words spurred Alex on to reached up and grab another piece for herself, and the Winchester’s eyes followed hungrily. 

Bobby, however, shook his head. “No, I mean do you feel like yourself? Anything strange or different?” he persisted. 

“Like demonic?” Dean’s response was dry, and Alex barely held back a small noise of laughter. “Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I’m me?” 

“Yeah, well, listen,” the grumpy, old hunter retorted. “No demon pulled you out from the goodness of his heart. They’ve got to have something nasty planned.” His words were accompanied by a glance over at Alex; the young girl only shrugged, using her mouthful of pizza as an excuse not to explain anything. 

“Well I feel fine.” Dean reached over and grabbed his own slice of food, his tone clearly meant to put an end to that line of conversation. 

Bobby frowned, but it was Sam who spoke first. “Okay, look. We’ve got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help.” 

Displeasure flashed across Bobby’s face as the change of topic, but he finally ventured forth with a, “I know a psychic. A few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she’s heard something from the other side.” 

“Hell yeah, worth a shot.” Dean nodded appreciatively, and Bobby rose to his feet. 

“I’ll be right back.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and left the room, leaving Sam, Dean, and Alex all by themselves. Dean stood up after a second, ready to follow, but Sam held him back. 

“Wait,” he began. “You probably want this back.” He pulled Dean’s golden amulet out from under his shirt and lifted it off from around his neck. 

Dean smiled as his brother dropped it into his outstretched hand. “Thanks.” He slipped the necklace on, and the amulet came to rest just below the collar of his shirt. 

“Don’t mention it.” Dean tried to slip past his brother one more time, but Sam reached out to stop him once again “Hey, Dean, what was it like?” 

Dean turned back around, confusion flitting across his features for the briefest of seconds. “What, hell? I don’t know,” he lied smoothly. “I must have blocked it out. I don’t remember a damn thing.” 

Sam didn’t respond immediately, too busy searching Dean’s face for any sign of deception. But when he found none, he nodded. “Well, thank God for that.” 

“Yeah.” Dean stepped past his brother and made his way down the hall to the bathroom, and Alex finally rose to her feet, slightly uncomfortable to find herself alone with Sam. 

“So,” she began as quietly and politely as she could as she stepped closer to the giant Winchester. “How have you been?”

“What the hell?” Sam whipped around, his voice exploding with anger. 

Alex jumped back in surprise, a sudden shock of terror running up her spine. “What?” 

“Why didn’t you say anything about Dean coming back?” Sam grabbed Alex by the hem of her shirt and slammed her up against the wall. Alex gasped in surprise as the wind was knocked out of her, and she cowered away from Sam’s hot breath as he yelled, “For four months I thought he was dead —”

“Get off of me!” Alex tried to shove him away, but it was like she was trapped between two brick walls. “Dean!” 

“Sam!” Dean Winchester wrenched his brother away, and Alex stumbled onto her feet. 

At that same moment, the door swung open to announce the return of Bobby. He froze, taking in the sight, and his gaze hardened. “What the hell?” he exclaimed, and he crossed the room angrily. 

“Honestly.” Alex let out a huff as she smoothed down the front of her shirt in an attempt to hide her shaking hands. “First you try and kill me because Dean’s in hell. Now you want to kill me because he’s back? What the hell do you want from me?” 

Sam’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at her, but he said nothing. Bobby, however, was not at a lack of words. “Come on, you two,” he snapped, exasperated. “Think reasonably. We’re never going to find what dragged Dean out if the two of you still have it out for each other.” 

“Hey. _I’m_ not the one at fault here.” Alex’s voice grew sharp to hide her own fear. “ _He’s_ the one who keeps shoving me into walls.”

The look on Sam’s face was enough to shut her up immediately, and she shifted backwards. The youngest Winchester, however, didn’t find her wit worthy of a response. “Did you get a hold of that psychic?” he asked Bobby, pointedly turning his back. 

“Yeah.” Bobby’s eyes darted between Alex and Sam, and his lips set into a thin line. “We should grab a few hours sleep now, though. I don’t know about you,” he said to the Winchesters, “but I’ve barely had a wink of sleep in days. Plus,” he added with a grumble, “Pamela said she’d skin all of us alive if we showed up in the middle of the night.” 

Dean raised his eyebrow in some sort of ill amusement. “So it looks like you’ll need a few extra rooms, huh? I’m not tired, though. I guess four months of being dead was sleep enough.” He glanced at his smoldering brother out of the corner of his eyes. “I’ll stay here with Sam, if that’s okay?” 

“Yeah, uh, sure that’s fine.” Sam shrugged, and Alex took that opportunity to slip past him and stand behind Bobby. 

The old hunter put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go find a place to stay.” He turned and let the way out of the room, and Alex followed close on his heels, casting quick looks over her shoulder all the way down to the parking lot. “So what the hell happened back there?” 

Alex looked up from where she had just grasped the handle of the old, rusted truck. “What?” she said, initially taken back by his sudden question, but hastily added, “I don’t know,” before he had a chance to repeat himself. “I just asked him how he was, and then he attacked me.” She slid into the front seat of the truck and slammed the door behind her. “I didn’t provoke him or anything, Bobby. I mean, why would I want him to be angry at me?” 

Bobby let out a grunt that sounded like agreement. “Well, the two of you better figure it out, you hear me? Cause if you don’t, one of you’s going to have to go. And I’m pretty sure it won’t be Sam.” 

The young girl opened her mouth, but snapped it closed as she thought better of it. “I’ll try my best,” she grumbled as the old hunter started the car. “But I can’t change Sammy’s mind.” 

“Better stop calling him ‘Sammy’ for starters,” Bobby advised, and Alex let out a laugh despite the seriousness of his tone. 

“We’ll see,” was all she promised. The car rumbled out of the parking lot, and Alex pressed her forehead into the cool glass as the motel behind them faded into the night. 

 

**T** he next day, Bobby pulled the rusted old truck into the driveway of a small suburban home. The Impala stopped alongside the curb behind them, and Sam and Dean joined Bobby and Alex on the porch, and Bobby reached forward to give two, solid knocks to the wooden door. Alex could hear the noise of someone approaching, and a second later, the door opened slowly to reveal a dark-haired woman. Her pale eyes lit up at the sight of them. “Bobby!” she exclaimed, and she stepped forward to pull him into a giant hug. She even briefly lifted him off the ground during the embrace, which elicited an exchange of looks from the two Winchesters. 

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Bobby joked lightly as the woman set him back down. 

“So, are these the boys?” The psychic turned to Sam and Dean, eyes running up at down their forms as she took them in. 

Bobby nodded. “Sam, Dean, this is Pamela Barnes. The best damn psychic in the state.”

“Hey.” Dean shot the woman a warm, charming smile. Sam quickly echoed his brother, trying his best to mimic his grin, but it came across more nervous and awkward than anything else. 

Pamela didn’t seem to notice. “Mm-mmm,” she hummed as she studied Dean. “Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back into the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual.” 

“If you say so,” Dean only half-joked, and his smile faded away. 

“Come on in.” Pamela stepped aside and motioned the two brothers through the door. They entered, and her gaze turned to Alex for the first time. “And who’s this?” she asked. 

“Alex.” Alex stepped forward and held out her hand, blinking in surprise when the psychic shook it; her grip was far stronger than she had expected. 

“Alex.” The woman tested the name out on her tongue. “And mind if I ask how you got all wrapped up in all of this?” 

“Well, I kind of accidentally fell into it,” the girl half-lied. Perhaps it was best to leave out the ‘I fell out of the sky from a universe where this was all a show’ bit for now. Not wanting any more questions, she slipped past the psychic and followed Bobby through the door. 

“So, you hear anything?” Bobby asked as Pamela shut the door behind them. 

“Well, I Ouija’d my way through a dozen spirits,” the psychic began. “No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why.” 

“So what’s next?” Bobby paused as they entered the living room, and Alex did the same, keeping close to the hunter since Sam was standing only a few feet away. 

Pamela answered without hesitation. “A seance, I think. See if we can see who did this deed.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea …” Alex began quietly.

“You’re not gonna … summon that damn thing here?” Bobby added more loudly; Alex’s concern only seemed to further solidify his. 

“No, I just want to get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without a crystal,” the psychic explained. 

Dean nodded in understanding. “I’m game,” he said as Pamela moved further into the living room. She retrieved a black cloth and spread it out over the round wooden table. Alex peered closer at the sight of white symbols, and she barely noticed when Bobby left her side to close the thick curtains that hung over the room’s one, large window. Pamela crouched down in front of the cabinet on the other side of the room, and when she pulled open one of the drawers, her shirt rode up, revealing a elaborate tattoo across her lower back. From where Alex stood, she could barely make out the words _Jesse Forever_. The Winchesters clearly also noticed, judging by the way Dean nudged Sam and pointed. “Who’s Jesse?” he asked. 

Pamela let out a small laugh. “Well, it wasn’t forever,” was all she said. 

“His loss,” Dean quipped, and Alex couldn’t help but roll her eyes. 

The psychic rose back to her feet and turned around, her hands full of dark candles. “Might be your gain.” She shot Dean a wink as she brushed past him to set the candles upon the table. 

“Dude, I am so in,” Dean whispered to his brother, a grin across his face. 

Sam let out a smile of disbelief, and he shook his head as he laughed. “She is going to eat you alive.” 

“Hey, I just got out of hell. Bring it.” 

Dean fell silent as Pamela walked back over to them, but she didn’t seem to care. “You’re invited too, Grumpy,” she added with a wink in Sam’s direction. 

She moved back to the cabinets, and Dean fixed his brother with a glare. “You’re _not_ invited,” he retorted under his breath. 

Alex felt Bobby’s gaze on her, and she looked up into his face. “Get use to it,” he grumbled down to her. 

“Don’t worry,’” Alex quipped back, voice low so the other three couldn’t hear. “As long as I don’t have to watch.” She turned back to the Winchesters as Bobby grunted in amusement. 

“If you two are ready,” Pamela turned her attention onto Bobby and Alex, “we can begin.” She sat down at the table and lit the candles around her. Dean sat on one side of her, and Bobby quickly claimed the seat on her other side. Sam sat down beside his brother, glancing disdainfully down at the open seat beside him. It was the only one left. 

Alex slipped into the chair, head ducked as she tried to remain as small as possible in front of the massive Winchester. If she were lucky, she could pretend like she wasn’t here. Pamela’s next words, however, made that impossible. “Take each other’s hands.” 

Alex took Bobby’s hand and gingerly held out her other hand for Sam to take; the Winchester held it lightly, as if the very touch of her skin was displeasing to him. “And I need to touch something our mysterious monster touch,” Pamela added, and Alex watched as her right hand disappeared beneath the table. 

Dean immediately jumped. “Whoa,” he warned. “Well, he didn’t touch me there.” 

“My mistake.” Pamela’s hand returned to the tabletop, and Alex looked up to catch Sam’s eye. She pulled the corner of her lip up in mock disgust and rolled her eyes, grinning when she was rewarded by the faintest hint of a smile on the Winchester’s face. 

Dean rolled up his left sleeve to reveal the handprint branded into his shoulder, and the smile was wiped off of his brother’s face, replaced with a blank look of shock. Pamela laid her hand over it, lining up her fingers the best she could. “Okay.” She closed her eyes, and everyone else followed suit. 

“I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.  
I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.  
I invoke conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.” 

The television set in the corner of the room began to flicker, and the grating sound of static filled the room. Alex dared to crack open an eye. 

“I invoke, conjure, and command — Castiel? No, sorry, Castiel, I don’t scare easy.” 

Alex glanced over at Dean; his eyes had opened at the name the psychic had uttered. “Castiel?” he repeated. 

“It’s name,” Pamela replied. “It’s whispering to me, warning me to turn back.” The table began to shake underneath them, and Sam and Bobby’s eyes flew open. 

“I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face.” 

“Don’t, Pamela,” Alex warned quietly. “We know its name; that’s enough.” 

“Maybe we should stop,” Bobby added as the table began to shake even more violently, and both Winchesters exchanged hesitant looks. 

“I almost got it,” the psychic insisted, face screwed up in concentration. “I command you, show me your face!” 

“Don’t do it,” Alex repeated, this time louder. “I’m warning you, please. Don’t.” She could feel the stares of all three hunters upon her, but Pamela refused to even open her eyes. 

“Show me your face now!” 

“ _Don’t_!” Alex dropped Sam and Bobby’s hands and jumped to her feet. “Pamela, stop it! Stop it! Don’t look at him! Please —” The candle flames flared up, and the psychic’s eyes flew open as her head jerked upwards. Alex stumbled away as they exploded in a flash of white light, and she tripped over her chair and fell to the ground. She heard Pamela collapse over the dull thud of her own body hitting the wooden ground, and she reached up to feel her head where she had hit it against the floor. 

The three hunters were now on their feet, and Alex jumped up, eyes going wide at the sight before them. Blood oozed from the psychic’s closed eyes, and she slithered out of her chair; Bobby was barely able to catch her in time before she hit the ground. “Call 9-1-1,” he ordered, and Sam scrambled out of the room. Dean knelt down beside Bobby and Pamela, but Alex remained where she was, frozen on the spot. 

Pamela’s whole body was shaking in terror, and pained sobs seeped out from her lips. “I can’t see,” she cried. “I can’t see. Oh God.” Her eyes opened, and terror ran up Alex’s spine. Her sockets were empty and bloodless; the flesh was charred black and flaking away. 

She jumped at Sam’s soft voice as he reentered the room. “Is she okay?” 

“I’m sorry.” The words came out as a dry whisper, and Alex turned to look up into Sam’s face. Their eyes met for only a second before Sam turned away, and the girl’s eyes fell back onto the quivering psychic. In the distance, sirens could be heard rapidly approaching, and Alex’s stomach twisted. 

Bobby cleared his throat. “You three should go,” he told the others. “I’ll stay here.” He shifted closer to Pamela as Dean stood up, and the psychic gripped his arm tighter. The two Winchesters nodded and started towards the door, and Bobby motioned after them with a nod of his head. “You too, Alex. I’ll catch up later.” 

“Yeah, okay.” The girl licked her lips, trying to get moisture back into her dry mouth. “You’re going to be okay,” she promised Pamela, trying not to think of how hollow her words sounded. Pamela didn’t respond, and Alex’s feet carried her out of the house. The brothers were climbing into the Impala, and she hurried into the backseat. “She’s going to be okay,” she murmured as she closed the door; whether the Winchesters heard or not, she wasn’t sure. Dean started the car, and the Impala sped away. 

 

**I** t was Dean’s idea to stop at a small diner only a few miles away. Once he had thrown the car into park, he led the way through the swinging double doors and into the dim interior of Jonny Mac’s Diner. No sooner had he sat down at one of the tables, however, that Sam’s phone rang, and the younger Winchester jumped to answer it. “It’s Bobby,” he explained before he hurried off to a empty corner table. 

Alex slid into the seat beside Dean, ducking her head as a blonde waitress walked up to them. “Can I get you anything?” she asked, her voice light and sweet. 

Alex shook her head, but Dean ordered a slice of pie — apple, if they had any. _Typical_ , the young girl mused, and she closed her eyes as she focused on her breathing. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Calm down — the girl stiffened. She scent of rotting eggs was in the air; faint, but definitely there. 

She glanced over at Dean, but both the Winchester and the waitress seemed oblivious to her sudden change of posture, too busy discussing the available flavors of homemade dessert. The Winchester clearly wasn’t on guard for the smell of sulphur. But it was definitely there. 

The waitress flounced away, and Sam returned, taking the seat across from his brother. “What did Bobby say?” Dean asked, worry lining his voice. 

“Pam’s stable. She’s on her way to ICU, but they don’t expect her to stay there long. She’s going to be okay.” 

“And blind,” Dean added sharply, “because of us.” Alex flinched at his tone, and the Winchester’s eyes turned onto her. “It’s not your fault.” 

His promised hung awkwardly in the air, and the young girl’s eyes flashed. “Yeah, it kind of is,” she retorted. “I knew this was going to happen. I should have been able to stop it.” 

“You tried to warn her —” 

“ _Tried_ isn’t good enough.” Alex slumped down so she could rest her chin on the table. “I could have done more.” She let her eyes wander forlornly around the empty diner. Apart from the waitress, there was a burly man behind the counter, cooking something on the grill, and a thin, wiry man on a stool at the bar. 

“We still have no clue what we’re dealing with,” Sam reminded his brother, and Alex reluctantly let her eyes flit back up to the Winchester. He hadn’t seemed to notice the stench of sulphur either, but, Alex noticed as she drew in a deep breath through her nose, the smell seemed to be fading. 

“That’s not true,” Dean insisted, and Alex murmured the same thing in unison. “We got a name,” Dean added with a glance down at Alex. “Castiel, or whatever. With the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him, bring him right to us.” The Winchester put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, his eyes hardening with determination. 

Sam scoffed. “You’re crazy. Absolutely not.” 

“We’ll work him over,” Dean promised. “I mean, after what he did?” He glanced over at Alex for her support, but the young girl couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. 

“Pam took one peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull,” Sam protested angrily, “and you want to have a face-to-face?” He too shot Alex a quick glance, seeking her agreement, and Alex slumped down even further in her chair, unwilling to disagree with Dean’s younger brother. 

Dean clearly wasn’t. “You got a better idea?” he challenged. 

“Yeah, as a matter of fact. I followed some demons into town, right?” Sam’s tone grew sharp with confidence, and Alex perked up; demons she knew something about. She cast a look towards their waitress; she seemed to be paying them no heed, but right before Alex’s eyes turned back to the brothers, her dark eyes flickered towards them. 

Alex immediately jerked her head back to look up at Sam, doing her best to pretend like she hadn’t been staring. “Okay,” Dean was saying, slow and skeptical.

“So we find them,” Sam finished. “Someone’s got to know something about something.” 

The waitress returned, balancing a slice of pie in her right hand, and the stench of sulphur returned with her. Alex narrowed her eyes, connecting the dots. “Good idea,” she said dryly, grey eyes turning up on to the hostess’ face. “I bet I even know where to start. Am I right?” 

The waitress gave a small blink as she locked eyes with the young girl, surprise flashing across her face before it hardened into cruel amusement. “Smart girl,” she praised, eyes flashing black before flitting back to normal as she turned to look down at Dean. “Dean. To hell and back. Aren’t you a lucky duck.” The demon spat out the last few words, and Alex’s toes curled uncomfortably within her boots. Somehow the realization that her guesswork had been right was far from comforting. 

“That’s me.” Dean’s voice remained unnervingly cool. 

The demon’s eyes flashed angrily. “So you just strolled out of the pit, huh? Tell me. What makes you so special?” 

“I like to think it’s because of my perky nipples,” Dean joked dryly, but a moment later his voice grew flat. “I don’t know. Wasn’t my doing. I don’t know who pulled me out.” 

“Right,” the demon scoffed. “You don’t.” Her face darkened, clearly not buying into the Winchester’s words. When Dean firmly repeated his affirmation, she added, “You know, lying is a sin.” 

Dean shook his head. “I’m not lying. But I’d like to find out, if you don’t mind enlightening me, Flo…” 

Anger pulled the demon’s lips up into a snarl. “Mind your tone with me, boy,” she warned. “I’ll drag your ass right back to hell myself.” 

Beside her, Sam shifted, ready to spring, but Alex gave a small shake of her head. “Don’t,” she murmured, only loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. “She’s not a threat, Sam.” 

Sam looked confused, but Dean nodded in understanding. “Right,” he agreed, turning back to their waitress. “You know, I don’t think you would. Or else you would have already. Fact is, you don’t know who cut me loose. And you’re just as spooked as we are. And you’re looking for answers. Maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or, uh, Godzilla.” The Winchester shrugged at his far-fetched claim. “Or some big bad boss demon. I’m guessing at your pay grade they tell you squat. So go ahead. Send me back. But don’t come crawling back to me when they show up at your doorstep with some Vaseline and a fire hose.” 

The demon’s eyes flashed black. “I’m going to reach down your throat and rip your lungs out,” she hissed furiously. Movement from across the room had Alex looking up, and she shivered at the sight of two more pairs of black eyes; the fry cook and the customer had risen to their feet to face them. 

Dean took no notice of them. Instead, he leaned forward, a challenge in his eyes for the demon to do exactly what she had promised. Sam’s eyes moved between his brother and the demonic entity, and then back to Dean, unsure of what to do, and Alex simply did nothing. 

The demon did the same. Fire danced within her sulfurous gaze, but she stood unmoving before the Winchester. “That’s that I thought.” Dean rose to his feet, his chair legs grating against the linoleum floor. “Let’s go, Sammy.” He dug a ten dollar bill out his wallet and dropped it on the table, pausing momentarily before he turned to go. “For the pie.” 

Dean stalked out of the restaurant, and Sam and Alex followed; Alex felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck as the demons’ gaze followed them out the door. “What the hell were you thinking?” Sam snapped as soon as they were outside. “ ‘She’s not a threat?’ ” he quoted back to Alex before he snarled, “That was too close! He could have died.” 

“Think with that big head of yours,” Alex retorted, anger boiling up beneath her skin at his tone. “No demon pulled Dean out of hell. They’re just as scared as you are about this.” 

Sam’s head whipped around to face his brother, his anger unfaltering. “So we’re just going to leave them in there?” 

“Yup.” Dean unlocked the Impala and paused, the driver’s side door half open. “There’s three of them, and probably a lot more, and there’s only one knife between us.” He got into his car, and Alex quickly did the same. 

“Dean,” Sam protested as he climbed into the passenger seat, “I’ve been killing a lot more demons lately.” 

The car’s engine purred to life. “Not anymore. The smarter brother’s back in town.” Dean flashed his brother a short-lived grin, and the Impala pulled out of the parking lot and into the street. 

“We’ve got to take them!” Sam insisted. “They’re dangerous.” 

“They’re _scared_.” Dean corrected. “Like Alex said. We’re dealing with a big bad mofo here. One job at a time.” And with that, he cranked up the music, effectively drowning out Sam’s last futile protests with the scream of guitars and the rumbling words of Rob Halford.

 

**T** hey returned to Sam’s hotel room in Pontiac and remained there until nightfall. Sam kept relaying them Bobby’s regular updates on Pamela’s condition, but there had been no sign of the old hunter since they had left the psychic’s house. Alex had taken up position in a chair, listening to the two brothers share a few beers. The tv flickered in the corner, displaying the nightly news, but no one paid it much attention. Within the hour, Dean was passed out on the couch, and Alex had closed her eyes, doing her best to fall asleep. 

She heard Sam quietly rise to his feet, and she let out a small frown, not fully sure of what he was doing. The floor creaked as the Winchester crossed the room and stepped outside; the door closed behind him with a soft click. Alex gave him a few seconds head start before she opened her eyes and quietly followed. She snuck down the back staircase and out the back door just in time to see Sam get into the Impala and start it up. She ducked down behind a truck as he sped by, only reappearing once the sound of the engine had faded into the distance. She had an idea of where the Winchester was going, and it wasn’t good. 

She hurried back up the stairs and in to room 207. She could hear a noise through the walls, an ear-splitting whine that caused her bones to shake. Alex threw open the door and hurried inside. The noise was unbearable, and her hands flew up to cover her ears. Dean lay crumpled on the floor, his hands pressed against his own ears, his face pulled tightly in a grimace. The high-pitched ringing resonated throughout the room, and the tv in the corner was running static. Glass splintered above their heads, and both Alex and Dean looked up in time to see the ceiling mirror crack. Dean barely rolled out of the way as it came crashing down, shattering into a million pieces on the floor. 

“Cas, stop it!” Alex raised her voice over the noise. She fell to her knees, unable to take the unrelenting pitch. “He can’t understand you! Dammit, Castiel!” 

“Dean!” The door was flung open, and Bobby rushed inside. He helped Dean to his feet, and the noise faded as they hurried back out into the hall. Alex stumbled after them, letting her hands drop back down to her sides to help steady her as they made their way down the stairs and into the parking lot. The motel was flooded with light as all of its other occupants were awoken, and the three of them piled into Bobby’s truck. Alex handed Dean a towel from the backseat as they sped away down the road, and he pressed it up against the side of his face, applying pressure to the small cuts that marred his skin. 

“How you doing, kid?” Bobby asked, but his voice seemed muffled over the ringing in Alex’s ears. 

She opened her mouth to respond, unsure who he was addressing, but Dean beat her to it. “Aside from the church bells ringing in my head, peachy,” he said dryly, and he dragged the towel down the other side of his face. 

“How about you?” Bobby glanced back at Alex in the rearview mirror, and the girl flashed him a thumbs up. 

She dug a piece of glass out of her tangled hair as Dean said, “Where are we going? What about my car?” 

“Sam took your car,” Alex muttered, disposing of the shard out the back window. “Left five minutes before … that … happened.” 

Dean dug his phone out of his pocket and pressed it up against his ear. Alex could see how he set his jaw through the side mirror as he waited for the other end to pick up. “What are you doing?” he asked after a minute, waiting only long enough to hear his brother’s explanation before adding, “In my car?” Only the slightest bit of tension in his voice conveyed the anger that danced in his eyes. “Well, uh, Bobby’s back. We’re going to grab a beer.” He held up a finger when the old hunter began to protest. “Done. Catch you later.” He hung up, and shoved his phone back into his jacket. 

Bobby turned his eyes from the road only long enough to glance at Dean. “Why the hell didn’t you tell him?” 

The Winchester’s answer was grim. “Because he’d only try and stop us.” 

“From?” 

“From summoning that thing.” Dean looked over at Bobby’s shocked face. “It’s time we face this thing head on.” 

“You can’t be serious!” Bobby’s voice rose high in indignation and surprise, and the look on his face made it clear he was remembering what had happened last time they had made contact. 

Dean’s lips set into a thin, firm line. “As a heart attack. It’s high noon, baby.”

Bobby looked back at Alex through the rearview mirror, looking for support, but she only gave a small shrug. “We don’t know what it is,” Bobby insisted. “It could be a demon. It could be anything.” 

Dean shook his head. “It's not a demon. But you're right; it could be anything. That's why we’ve got to be ready for anything.” Dean pulled the demon knife out of his pocket; it caught in the glare of an oncoming headlight. “We’ve got a big time magic knife and an arsenal in the trunk.” 

“This is a bad idea.” 

The Winchester slipped the knife back into his pocket. “Yeah, but what other choice do we have?” 

“We could choose life,” Bobby suggested, and Alex couldn’t help the amusement that briefly rose within her. 

Dean shifted in his seat to face the older hunter. “Bobby, whatever this is, it’s after me. That much we know, right? I’ve got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make a stand.” 

“I’m with Dean.” Alex finally spoke up, and she felt two pairs of eyes look back at her in surprise. “Remember,” she added in response to Bobby’s glare, “if you guys were going to die, I would have gone with Sam. But I want to see this thing that has been following Dean, okay?” 

“I have half a mind to make you stay in the car,” she heard Bobby grumble, but he reluctantly gave in. “Fine. I’m in. But I still think we should bring Sam with.” 

“Sam’s better off where he is now,” Alex muttered darkly. She fell into silence as the two hunters began to plan their method of attack. Bobby pulled the truck off of the highway and down a dirt road, and it rolled to a stop alongside an old, abandoned barn. Alex quietly rolled out of the car and into the dark night air, casting a quick look around to make sure they were alone. 

The only thing stirring was the grass, blown gently by the wind. Alex accepted a duffle bag from Bobby, loaded with spray paint and salt, and she trudged off after Dean into the wooden structure. 

“We’ll put a devil’s trap right here,” Dean decided, pointing to the ground right in front of the door, and Alex gave a small nod at his wise yet obvious decision. “Alex, think you can handle that?” 

Bobby snorted in amusement, and Alex gave a small nod. “Easy,” she promised; if there was one thing that had been drilled into her head over her four month stay, it was sigils. She dropped the bag and dug out a can of white spray paint. A glance over her shoulder showed the two hunters discussing what else needed to be drawn. 

 

**W** ithin two hours, they had finished. Alex put the finishing touches on a Hindu repellant charm and tossed the empty spray can onto the ground. Dean was over by the rickety wooden table, arranging the last of the weapons he had gathered. “Hell of an art project you got going on there,” he commented as she and Bobby approached. 

Bobby nodded his agreement. “Traps and talisman from every faith on the globe. Good work on that wiccan charm,” he added to Alex. “Takes a hell of a time to get right. How you doing?” He turned back to Dean and motioned to the weapons.

“Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife.” Dean ran down the list and nodded, satisfied with what he saw. “I mean, we’re pretty much set to catch and kill anything I’ve ever heard of." 

“Right. Because you’ve probably hunted something this powerful a hundred times,” Alex quipped sarcastically, examining the blade of a silver knife. 

Bobby seemed to agree with Alex. “This is still a bad idea.” 

“Yeah, Bobby. I heard you the first ten times.” Dean took the life away from Alex and set it back down on the table. “At lest we know it won’t kill us, right? Alex?" 

The girl looked up at the sound of her name. "Right," she quickly agreed. "Hundred percent sure. Well, eighty. Maybe a bit lower." She pulled a thoughtful face, and the two hunters exchanged hesitant looks. "I'm joking," she promised with a small and almost giddy grin. "We'll be fine." She looked expectantly around the room for their target, but there still was no sign of his arrival. 

"Let's hope so. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?" 

Bobby gave a reluctant nod, and he moved over to the adjacent table upon which sat two bowls. They contained a mixture of herbs and powders that Dean had mixed together, and Alex watched as he sprinkled some of the smaller bowl's contents over the larger one's. It began to smoke. He mumbled a few Latin words under his breath. 

The smoke died down, but that was all that happened. The hunters looked around, and Bobby dared to ask, "You think it worked?" 

"Yeah." Dean looked just as confused as Alex felt, but he remained firm in his conviction. "Maybe we should wait a while." 

Alex grunted out her agreement, and she lifted herself up onto the table. It groaned under her weight, but held, and she drummed her finger on the wooden slats. She watched as Bobby went forward to make sure that the barn door was locked, and when he returned, he looked as impatient as ever. "You sure you did the ritual right?" he asked. Dean shot him a low glare, and the hunter shrugged. "Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?" 

Suddenly, as if on cue, the roof rattled above their heads, and all three looked up. "Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind." Dean voiced what all three were thinking, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth that the door burst open. They swung inwards, hitting the sides of the barn with a bang, and Alex jumped in surprise. 

A dark-haired man stood there, a large, tan trench coat hanging off his frame. Unlike the hunters, he remained unnerved by the loud noise, and he glided forward without giving them a second glance. Alex grinned as she recognized the figure, but Bobby and Dean jumped to their feet, hands reaching for their guns. The stranger kept moving, and the lights above his head exploded in a shower of sparks. Even from where she sat, Alex could make out brilliant blue eyes set into a placid, stony face, and a aura of power rolled from the figure with every step he took. 

On an unspoken word, Dean and Bobby open fired, and the gunshots echoed through the air. They hit the man straight on; his coat tore beneath the rounds. But they didn't slow him down; he barely even seemed to notice their presence. 

The two hunters empied their guns into the stranger, but still he approached. Bobby stared, mystified, but Dean dropped his shotgun and grabbed the demon knife off the table, shoulders squared as the man came to stop directly in front of him. "Who are you?" he growled, fingers tightening on the knife that he had hidden behind his back. 

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." The stranger's voice was deep, gravely, and authoritative, and Alex grinned as she recognized the words. 

Dean's green eyes flashed angrily, less impressed than his companion. "Yeah, thanks for that." He lunged forward and buried the knife deep inside the man's chest before anyone could react. 

The powerful weapon did nothing. The stranger looked down at it, eyes squinted slightly in curiosity, before he slowly pulled it from his flesh. He let the blade fall to the floor, bloodless, and his eyes turned back up to Dean, his face blank as though the act of aggression meant nothing. Dean's jaw dropped as he stared. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw Bobby's hand tighten around an iron crowbar. The man had turned his back to the old hunter, and Bobby seized his oppurtunity, jumping forward and swinging the bar down at the stranger's head. 

Without even looking away from Dean, the stranger blocked the attack, fingers tightening around the crowbar as he stopped its decent with ease. He tore the weapon from Bobby's hand and turned, a hand going out to place two fingers upon the hunter's forehead. Bobby crumpled to the ground, unconscious, and the stranger watched him fall with almost a thoughful expression upon his face. "We need to talk, Dean." The stranger once more spoke in the same low, careful tone. "Alone." 

Cerulean eyes turned onto Alex, and the girl immediately backpedaled. "Oh no." Hands went up defensively, and she lifted her chin to stare the stranger square in the face. "Don't touch me, angel-boy. Whatever you need to tell him, you can tell me, too." She saw him hesitate, and she added, "You can't tell him anything that I don't already know. You remember, don't you? I told you _everythingwhat_ are you?" 

Castiel finally turned from the book, and his eyes briefly turned onto Alex. A silent question passed through his eyes, and the girl shook her head. No, she hadn't told them. "I'm an angel of the Lord," Castiel finally explained, and his gaze locked with Dean. 

Dean's confidence faltered, and he looked over at Alex. The girl merely shrugged, and the hunter rose to his feet. "Get the hell out," he ordered. "There's no such thing." 

Castiel stood up as well. "That's your problem, Dean. You have no faith." Lightning flashed above their heads, lighting up the barn, and Alex screwed up her eyes against the light. Large shadows of wings unfurled from the angel's shoulders, stretching out across the barn. Then the light faded, and the shadows disappeared. 

Alex grinned broadly, but Dean was finding it much harder to understand what he had just seen. After seconds, he found his voice. "Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes." 

Castiel looked down at the ground, almost as if he was embarassed. "I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be … overwhelming to humans, and so can my true voice." His eyes turned up onto Alex. "But you already knew that." 

"You mean at the gas station and motel." Dean frowned. "That was you talking?" The angel nodded, and Dean turned to Alex. "You knew it was him," he realized. "I heard you yelling at him." 

"Yeah, guilty as charged." Alex flashed him a quick smile, but it faltered when his eyes flahsed with anger. 

"And when exactly were you going to tell us?" he snapped. 

"When you were ready to listen," the girl retorted. "Serioulsy. You were so caught up in it being a demon you didn't listen to a damn thing I said. I know what I'm doing," she added when Dean's anger didn't fade. 

"Yes," Castiel agreed, interrupting them. "Actually, it was Alex who is responsible for me pulling you out of Hell." 

Dean raised an eyebrow, and the anger intensified. "So what? _You're_ the one who made a deal?" 

Alex frowned at the Winchester's tone. "I didn't make a deal. I just prayed to him, and it looks like he heard them." She cast a glance over at the angel, who was watching the two of them interact carefully. "You could have at least told me you'd heard me, you know." 

The angel didn't respond; in fact, he barely seemed to notice that she was speaking to him. Dean, however, cast Castiel a quick, low glare out of the side of his eyes, before asking, "So you knew he'd try and 'talk' to me?" 

"That was my mistake." Castiel looked embarrased. "Some people, special people, can percieve my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong." 

"And what _visage_ are you in now, huh?" the Winchester quipped."Holy tax accountant?" 

"This?" The angel looked down at his frumpled appearance. The coat was still torn from the shotgun rounds, and his blue tie was twisted backwards. "This is a … vessel." 

Dean's jaw set angrily. "You mean you're possessing some poor bastard?" 

Alex snorted in amusement at the Winchester's naivety. "What? Did you think that angels were born with a phsyical human form?" 

"He's a devout man," Castiel added with a promise. "He actually prayed for this." 

"Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?" Dean crossed his eyes as he eyed the angel in front of him, and Alex couldn't help but roll her eyes. 

Castiel frowned at the Winchesters noncompliance. "I told you," he started, but Dean cut him off. 

"Right," he scoffed. "And why would an angel rescue me from hell?" 

"Good things do happen, Dean." 

Dean grimaced at the angel's words. "Yeah. Not in my experience." 

"What's the matter?" Castiel's head tipped to one side as he studied the hunter in front of him, his blue eyes sparkling in curiosity. "You think you don't deserve to be saved?" 

Dean didn't respond. "Why'd you do it?" he demanded instead. 

"Because God commanded it. Because he has work for you." Castiel's words hung in the air, and Dean's gaze dropped to the ground, unable to think up a response. Alex let up a pent-up breath, and she took the moment of silence to study the angel before her. He was taller than she had imagined, but he still wore the dirty trench coat and the always-skewed tie, and his dark brown hair was tousled as if he had just carelessly run his fingers through it. His blue eyes were watching Dean closely, and they flickered briefly across her face; their gaze met, and Alex couldn't look away from his intense stare. 

It was movement from Bobby that finally had her tearing her eyes away from the angel. When she looked back up a second later, the angel was gone. "What the hell?" she heard Dean exclaim, and she shook her head. 

"Get use to it," she muttered too quietly for the Winchester to heard. She watched as Dean knelt down beside Bobby, steadying him as he regained consciousness. "Is he okay?" she inquired. 

Dean didn't immediately answer. "Hey, hey. You okay?" He helped Bobby sit up, and the old hunter looked around through narrowed eyes. 

They darted passed the open door, the empty shells, and the hundreds of talismen that decorated the barn walls, finally coming to rest on Dean and Alex. "What the hell happened?" 

Alex let the corner of her lips turn up into a grin at the question. Bobby was going to absolutely love their answer. 

 

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**E** ight hours later, Alex found herself rolling out of the front seat of Bobby's pickup. The sun was rising in the sky, still to weak to chase away the chill that had settled across the ground. "Ugh," she groaned, dramatically stretching out her back as soon as her feet touched the dirt below, "that was only eight hours? I feel like we were driving _forever_."

"Shut up and stop complaining," Bobby grumbled from behind her, and the girl turned with a roll of her eyes. "You'll be in the car longer than that if you want to start hunting." 

"Not me." She accepted two bags from Bobby as he unloaded the trunk. "I'm going to manage the shit out of a fifteen mile radius."

She ignored how the old hunter grunted, displeased with her explictive, and instead turned her attention to the Impala, which was pulling up the driveway of the salvage yard. Bobby was still unloading the last of the bags, and Alex quickly carried the ones she was holding up the steps and into the house.

She dropped them inside the study, pausing only briefly to take in the musty yet familiar smell of the house. There was the unmistakable scent of alcohol and old books, but after four months, it had come to represent comfort and safety. It was a good smell, the girl decided. 

Alex made her way back out out of the house to find Bobby talking with Sam. The younger Winchester had already been back at the motel by the time they had returned, but whatever reunion had taken place between the two brothers had happened outside of Alex's presence; Bobby had thought it best that the two of them stay seperate whenever possible. So instead, she had crawled up into the front seat, and the two of them had started the long trip back. 

Bobby ceased talking as she approached, and the girl got the sneaking suspicion they were talking about her. Both were saved from saying anything, however, by Dean's arrival. "Hey," he called, two plastic bag in his hands. "Got pie and beer. And, uh, water for the kid." 

"Not a kid," Alex grumbled under her breath, but she was ignored. Dean pulled out two beers, giving one to Bobby and keeping the other for himself. He handed the entire bag over to Sam, leaving his brother to take what he wanted. Alex held up her hand towards the tall Winchester. "Hey, Sammy," she called. "Water." 

Sam turned his eyes onto her, his jaw set squarely. Don’t call me Sammy," he warned. 

"Sammy." 

"Stop," Sam repeated, and anger danced within his hazel eyes with such a sudden burst of fury that Alex almost took a step back. "Only Dean gets to call me that, okay?" He looked down into the plastic bag, frustration written clearly across his face. 

Alex stared at him, her own frustration quenching her fear. A witty retort sat on the tip of her tongue, and she hesitated, unsure whether or not she should speak, but the grumble of "asshole" that was muttered beneath his breath had her rolling her eyes. "Okay … whatever you say, _Samantha_." 

Sam's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. 

"Shit." Alex took a step back as Sam handed the bag back to Dean. "Shit shit shit." 

Dean started laughing as the girl turned tail and ran, and foorsteps pounded behind her as Sam gave chase. "Run, Forrest, run!" she heard Dean yell after her, and she foreed her legs to carry her faster. A quick glance over her shoulder showed the Winchester close on her heels, and she couldn't help the smirk that grew across her face. However this chase ended, that joke had sure as hell been worth it.


	4. Are you There, God? It's Me

**September 23rd, 2008**   
**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**T** hree days had passed since they had returned from Pontiac, and Alex found herself facing what had unfortunately become a familiar sight. Bobby was in the library, his nose buried in a book, while Sam and Dean argued loudly from within the kitchen. Alex watched them wearily from the corner of her eye; she was still nursing bruises from her last encounter with Sam Winchester. Weaving in between the cars had been the only thing that had kept her two feet ahead of him, and it had only ended when she had tripped over a piece of scrap metal and face-planted into the side of a car; she now sported a black eye and a large bruise on the back of her thigh from where Sam had tripped over her. 

"Look. All I know is I was not groped by an angel." Dean's sharp, agitated voice had Alex frowning. The Winchester was standing in front of his brother, who was looking just as frustrated. 

"Okay, look, Dean. Why do you think this Castiel would lie to us about it?" Sam looked up at his brother from his seat at the table, and for a brief moment his gaze flickered over to her; Alex jerked her head away to avoid his stare. 

"Maybe he's some kind of demon."

Alex scoffed at the very idea, and Sam's eyes widened at the suggestion. "A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps and Ruby's knife?" He threw his hands up in exasperation, his voice tense and thin. "Dean, Lilith is scared of this thing."

Dean picked up a cold slice of leftover pizza from the counter, and, after giving it a half-hearted sniff, tossed it back into the greasy cardboard box. “Demons lie.” 

Alex finally spoke up, removing the icepack from her eye and sliding it underneath her leg to press up against her thigh. “Dude, everyone here can see it except you,” she snapped “I mean, I’ve been trying to tell you it wasn’t a demon since the moment you came back. Castiel isn’t lying. I can see why you don’t believe him, but I’ve never lied to you.” 

Dean let out an angry scoff as he shot her a dark glare. “What do you mean you’ve never lied to me? You told me I wasn’t going to die!” 

“Hey.” The girl held up her hands defensively. “I told you that I’d see you around. And _voila_ , here we are.” She motioned to the room around them. “Technically not lying.” 

Dean started at her for a second, but couldn’t seem to find a chink in her argument worth pursuing. “Okay, then, fine, tell me this,” he said instead. “If angels were real, don’t you think some hunter would have seen one, once, at some point? Ever?” He leaned up against the sink and crossed his arms.   
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “You just did, Dean.” 

His brother let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I’m trying to come up with a theory here. Work with me.” 

“We have a theory,” Alex reminded, and she drew her legs up onto the chair to cross them, ignoring the pointed look the oldest Winchester threw her way.

“Yeah, one with a little less fair dust, please.” 

“Okay, look.” Alex could tell that Sam was trying his hardest not to get worked up. “I’m not saying we know anything for sure, I’m just saying that ...” 

“Okay, okay.” Dean interrupted his brother. “That’s the point. We don’t know for sure, so I’m not going to believe that this thing is a freaking angel of the Lord because it says so!” 

“ 'This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.' ” Alex quickly parroted back Castiel’s words, followed by a smile as Dean threw her another dark look. 

“You chuckleheads gonna keep arguing about religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?” Bobby Singer broke into their arguing, and Alex turned her head to peer at him in the study. He had been silent through the midst of their arguing; he must have found something good for him to speak up now. 

Alex got to her feet and began to make her way over to the old hunter, but cried out in protest when she was roughly shoved out of the way by Dean. “Hey!” she snapped, and Sam echoed her with an angry, “Dean!” He followed his brother into the study, and Alex trailed sullenly behind; on the bright side, their argument had temporarily left her in Sam’s good favor. 

Bobby looked up from his book as Dean came to stop in front of him. “Watch it, boy,” he scolded. Dean’s only response was a low, angry exhale. Alex moved to settle herself over Bobby’s shoulder as he glanced between the two brothers. “I’ve got tons of lore,” he began. “Biblical, pre-Biblical, some of it’s in damn cuneiform. It all says that an angel can snatch a soul out of the pit.” Bobby spun the book around so that Dean and Sam could see for themselves. 

“What else?” Dean asked, and Alex leaned forward to study the colorful picture drawn on the left hand page.  

“What else what?” Bobby repeated. 

“What else could do it?” The Winchester self-consciously rubbed his hand where Castiel’s handprint had been branded. 

“Airlift your ass out of the hotbox? As far as I can tell, nothing.” Bobby shrugged, and Alex made a small noise that clearly meant, ‘I told you so.’ 

It largely went ignored by the two Winchesters. “Dean, this is good news.” Sam pushed the book back towards Bobby as he looked up at his brother. 

Dean scoffed. “How?” 

“Because for once, this isn’t just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?” 

Dean still didn’t look convinced. “Okay,” he slowly began. “Say it’s true. Say there are angels. Then what? There’s a God?” He looked between his three companions, doubt darkening his green eyes. 

Alex gave a small nod, while Bobby merely shrugged. “At this point, Vegas money’s on yeah,” he agreed. 

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know guys —”  
“Okay, look.” Sam turned to face his brother as he cut him off mid-sentence. “I know you’re not all choirboy about this stuff, but it’s becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof.” 

“Proof?” Dean repeated skeptically. 

“Yeah.” 

“Proof that there’s a God out there who actually gives a crap about me personally?” Dean finished. “I’m sorry, but I’m not buying it.” 

Alex narrowed her eyes. “Why not?” she asked, head tipping to one side as she met the Winchester’s gaze. 

“Because why me?” he retorted. “If there’s a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?” 

“Dean ...” Sam started, but Dean didn’t stop. 

“I mean, I’ve saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to be saved? I’m just a regular guy.” 

Alex nodded, and she sat down on the corner of the desk. “Yeah, a regular guy who’s important to the man upstairs.”

“Well, that just creeps me out. I mean, I don’t like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by ... God.” Dean trailed off slightly, and his gaze flitted uncomfortably across the room. 

“Okay, well, that’s just too bad, Dean, because I think that he wants you to strap on your party hat.” 

Alex visibly winced at Sam’s words. “Ooh the pain,” she joked. “Please never repeat that again. I’m serious,” she added, locking her gaze with Sam’s. He rolled his eyes and turned away. 

She wasn’t sure what did it, but something Sam said had caused a change in Dean’s demeanor; whether it was reluctant acceptance or surrender, she didn’t know. “Fine.” He turned back to Bobby and sat down in one of the chairs. “What do we know about angels?” 

In response, Bobby reached over and dropped a stacks in front of him. “Start reading.” 

Dean turned to his brother. “You’re gonna get me some pie.” He didn’t wait for Sam to protest before he turned back and picked up the top book. 

Sam’s nostrils flared, but all he said was, “Fine,” as he rose to his feet and took the keys from Dean’s extended hand. 

Alex perked up at the prospect of getting away from the inevitable nightmare of reading. “Can I come?” 

“No.” Sam moved off towards the door, and Alex raised an eyebrow when he glanced back at her. “And stop looking at me like you know what I’m going to do,” he snapped. 

The young girl blinked. “But I do know what you’re going to do,” she insisted as innocently as she could. She watched Sam storm out of the house, finally turning away when she heard the door close loudly behind him. “Jerk,” she muttered under her breath, and she grabbed a book as she settled down on the couch by the window. 

 

**A** lex rubbed her tired eyes, watching as the words swam on the pages. She wasn’t sure how long she had sat there on that couch; long enough to pretend to read several books and toss around a few half-formed theories with Dean and Bobby. She uncurled from her position with a low groan, which was immediately followed by a second groan, this one of relief, as her legs finally got to stretch out in front of her.

Her movements spurred Bobby to stir from where he sat; he closed his book and got to his feet, passing Dean on the way to the kitchen. Alex listened as he took one of the phones off of its hooks and dialed a number. Apparently no one answered, because after a minute, he swore under his breath and hung up. Dean looked up as the old hunter re-entered the study. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve been trying to contact this hunter; name’s Olivia — I figured she could help with this whole angel thing. But I haven’t heard from her in three days. I think we should go check on her. She’s only a few hours out.” 

Dean gave a small nod. “Okay.” He put down his book and stood up, arms reaching high above his head as he stretched. “Once Sam gets back, we’ll head out.” He looked over at Alex as the young girl perked up, and his lips set into a thin line. “Not you, though. You’re staying here.” 

Alex pulled an offended face at the Winchester’s bluntness. “Fine, be like that.” She crossed her arms. “If you don’t want my help, just say so.” 

“I don’t want your help.” Dean looked the girl up and down, and added, “How old are you anyways?” 

Bobby immediately answered for her. “Seventeen.” 

“Technically eighteen,” Alex hurried to add. “I mean, considering I showed three months ago in May, but I had originally been in December and I was born in January ...” She trailed off, her own convoluted explanation only confusing her more. 

By the look on Dean’s face, it hadn’t made any more sense to him. “You know what, I don’t really care.” He looked up at the sound of the Impala pulling up alongside the house. “Just, just stay put and stay out of trouble, okay?” 

Alex huffed, running her hand through her blonde hair. “No promises,” she muttered as Dean left, and she caught Bobby’s eye. He cast her a sympathetic look before he followed Dean out of the house; the young girl ignored it. If he really felt bad about it, he easily could have spoken up. 

She watched the two cars drive away down the dusty old driveway before she kicked her most current stack of books onto the ground. She hated being left behind. 

The young girl rose to her feet and made her way outside, fingers curling deep within her sweatshirt as a chilly breeze swept past. "Hey, uh, Cas?" she called out hopefully. "Castiel? It's Alex. I, uh, I know you're busy and all, but if you're not _too_ busy, I'd love to talk with you." She paused, waiting for a response, but nothing came. "Well, okay." Alex turned away as her face fell in disappointment. "Anytime you can get away, then." 

"What do you want?" A deep, familiar voice came from behind her, and Alex spun around to face Castiel. The angel looked exactly as he had before; twisted tie, tan coat, dark, tousled hair. His brilliant blue eyes studied her curiously, even though his face remained as expressionless as ever. 

"Oh, uh, hey, Cas." The words came out in a stammer, and Alex took a moment to steady her surprised voice. 

"Castiel," the angel corrected. 

"Yeah. Castiel." The girl cleared her throat awkwardly as she echoed back his full name. "That's what I meant." 

She fell quiet, and Castiel's head tipped as the silence lengthened. "Why did you want to talk to me?" he finally prompted. "Is there something wrong?" 

Alex gave a small shrug at his words. "Not really. I was bored — Winchesters left me behind. I just thought we could talk a bit," she added when Castiel's face remained blank. "So, um … how's everything going?" 

"I've been very busy." If the angel's words were meant to be pointed, his tone certainly didn't show it. 

"Oh. Right, sorry." Alex blinked in apology; she had been trying to ease her way into her big question, but she could see small talk wasn't going to work. "Straight to the point, then. Why am I here? _How_ am I here? Because I have absolutely no idea, and, well, I know your garrison is in charge of watching over the Earth and all, so I thought … maybe you guys saw something?" 

An emotion flitted across Castiel's face, gone too quick for her to pin it down. "What do you know about my garrison?" he asked, his blue eyes searching her face for answers. 

"Well, I, uh, I know you're in charge-ish," Alex started, and she quickly started listing off any facts that she could remember. "Zachariah is your boss. Then there's Balthazar, and, um, what was their names? Hestor and … Isaiah? Something like that." 

"Inais." 

"Inais. Right." Alex nodded; that was probably it. "I know a few other angel's names. Samandriel, Michael, Gabriel, Lucifer — if you still count him as an angel, of course — Raphael, Uriel." The girl looked down at her fingers as she listed them off. "Probably a few more." 

When she looked up, she saw suspicion darkening the angel's eyes. "How much do you know?" he asked, squinting as he studied her carefully. 

"Enough." Alex took a few steps to her left and sat down on the rusted hood of a sedan, casually crossing her arms as she braced herself for a round of questions. 

Castiel turned his head to follow her, but his body stayed facing its original direction. "You knew about the seals," he stated. "So then you know about Lucifer." 

"Yup. I know about him and Michael, and how Gabriel fled because he couldn't stand to watch them fight. I know that no one's seen God for a very long time. But mostly I know about you." Alex straightened up as she confidently met Castiel's gaze. "I know who you are, and who you are going to become. Now, what about me? You never answered my question." 

Castiel ignored her. "How do you know so much?" he persisted, and Alex waved him off. 

"I'll explain another time," she half-promised. "You first. What happened to me?"

The angel took a moment to blink. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "No one knows. But I was there, when you hit that car. I saw you fall from the sky." 

Alex's eyebrows rose at the news, and she slid down off of the hood of the car. "You were there?" she repeated. "How? How did you know?" 

"We were … made aware that something would happen." Castiel's answer was cryptic, yet honest, and he held her gaze, unblinking, as the young girl approached him. "However, I didn't know what was going to happen, nor why it did. Unfortunately, we know no more than you do." The angel paused, and his eyes turned upwards towards the clouds. "I must go. My garrison needs me." 

Alex heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I guess they do," she reluctantly agreed. "Well, hopefully we can talk again soon." 

"I agree." Castiel gave a curt nod, and then he was suddenly gone, vanishing into thin air. His disappearance sent a gust of wind swirling through the air, and Alex screwed up her eyes against it. Once again she was alone, bored, and left with even more questions than what she had started with. 

 

**T** he rest of the day ticked by slowly. Very slowly. Alex paced around the house like a caged animal, unable to settle down. Around dinnertime, she nibbled on the lukewarm pizza that was still sitting on the counter, mind racing as the tried to remember exactly what was happening in the lives of Sam and Dean, but little else came to mind. With a sigh, the young girl resigned herself to the fact that she had remembered everything she could for the time being. 

Finally, as the sun was beginning to set, she heard a car pull up to the house. Alex ran over to the nearest window to see Bobby get out of his truck and walk up to the house. The front door opened, and a voice called out, "Alex?" 

"Yeah?" The girl hurried into the kitchen. "What's up? You find Olivia?" She leaned up against the doorframe as Bobby dropped his gun onto the counter. 

"You could say that." He sat down at the crowded wooden table, and Alex frowned at his words, and as the silence lengthened, she prompted him with a puzzled hum. "Olivia's dead." Bobby leaned back in his chair so he could look her in the eyes. "I took the liberty of checking on a couple other hunters nearby. Jed and Carl. They're both dead, too." 

Alex's eyebrows knitted together in confusion and sympathy. "That's terrible. I'm sorry." She rested her head against the doorframe as her shoulders fell. She had met Jed a few times; he was nice.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens with hunters." Bobby stood up and crossed over to the fridge to pull out a beer. "You got any idea of what killed them? Because we're stumped over here." 

"Sorry." Alex gave a small shake of her head. "I've been trying to remember, but I've got nothing. Got any sort of info that could help me out?" 

"There were salt lines and EMF everywhere we went, which lends itself towards a vengeful spirit, but …" Bobby shook his head. "What kind of spirit goes after three capable hunters like that?" 

The young girl bit her lip, racking her brain for any sort of information. "Well, it sounds familiar, which is a good sign. That means that somewhere up here," she tapped her head, "I've got the answer …" She trailed off when Bobby slipped past her into the study, and she realized that he wasn't listening to her anymore. She turned to watch him dig through a pile of old books. "What are you looking for?" 

"I'll know it when I find it." Bobby dropped two books onto the couch and flipped through a third. "Cause no offense, but you knowing that you know something doesn't do squat." 

"Sorr-yy." Alex grabbed a book and dropped onto the couch. "Just trying my best." She glanced out the dark window behind her before turning back to the dimly lit study. "You know, even after four months, this house still creeps me out." 

Bobby didn't respond. 

"It's just so dark and cluttered," she continued. "Especially at night." 

"Are you going to keep jabbering all night, or are you gonna help me?" Bobby snapped. As he spoke, the lights flickered, and both looked up in surprise. Alex felt goosebumps run up her arm, and when she exhaled, her breath clung to the air. The radio suddenly turned on, and, Alex watched Bobby walked over to the stairs as a small ball rolled down to stop at his feet. She jumped up as he hurried back into the study and motioned her over to the fireplace. He picked up an iron poker and stepped in front of her, a hand going out when she tried to peer around him. "Oh." Alex sucked in a deep breath as the air by the stairs flickered, and two young girls appeared, standing side by side. "I remember this." 

Bobby swung the poker as one of the girls surged forward. It sliced through her midsection, and she disappeared. "Well, I'm listening." 

Alex darted forward to grab a crowbar that had been leaning up against the desk. "Yeah, slight problem. I'm still not totally sure what's going on." She backpedalled until she was back-to-back with Bobby, and her grey eyes flickered around the dark room. "

"Well, hurry up and figure it out." 

"I'm working on it!" One of the girls appeared in front of Alex, and she reeled back instinctively, the crowbar flying out and passing through her neck. The girl vanished, but only a few seconds later appeared suddenly at Alex's left side. She began to turn, but a dark force collided with her, sending her flying across the room. She struggled to her feet, head spinning, but before she could regain her footing, she was once again tossed into the air. She hit the fireplace, striking her head against the brick. The world swam as she sunk to the ground, and then everything went black. 

 

**W** hen Alex came to, it was day. She winced at the brightness, and as her eyes adjusted, Sam's concerned face came into focus. The Winchester was bent over her, hazel eyes searching her face as she came back into the waking world. "Dean!" he called. "Alex, are you okay?" 

Memories crashed over her, and Alex sat up with a start. "Bobby?" she called, and she cried out at the sharp, pulsing pain in her her head. 

"He's not here." Alex squinted to make out Dean, who stood a few feet off, a gun in his hands. "What the hell happened here?" 

"There were two girls. Girl-ghosts. Ghost girls." Alex let Sam help her up onto the couch, mumbling incoherently to herself as she tried to remember. "They just appeared, and — and …" Her gaze came to rest on the iron poker that lay on the ground, and she trailed off. 

Sam and Dean exchanged silent looks over her head. "I'll check upstairs," Dean finally said. "You guys look outside." He hurried out of the study, and Alex heard the stairs creak under his weight as he ascended. 

"Maybe you should stay here," Sam suggested, but Alex shook her head. 

"I'm fine," she promised, rising to her feet; the shakiness in her legs suggested otherwise, and she prayed that the Winchester wouldn't notice. She bent down to pick up the iron poker before motioning to the crowbar that lay by the desk. "Take that. Let's go." 

Sam picked up the crowbar and led the way out the back door, and Alex slowly followed him outside. The bright sunlight disoriented her concussed brain, and she had to pause beside a stack of rusted cars to steady herself. She ran a hand over her forehead; when she pulled it away, it was caked in dried blood. "Are you sure you're okay?" Sam glanced back at her, and Alex brushed the blood off on her jeans. 

"Yeah, of course," she promised. "I'm fine." She gripped the iron rod tighter in her hands as she unsteadily made her way back to Sam. "Bobby?" she called out, and she cautiously checked the backseat of an old truck.

"Bobby!" Sam's breath hung visibly in the air as he yelled out the hunter's name. He motioned for Alex to move closer, and the young girl needed no more prompting, staying close on his tail as they wove their way through the cars. "Bobby, are you here?" Sam started prying open trunks with his crowbar, and Alex immediately joined in, straying from the Winchester in an attempt to cover more ground. She was halfway through jimmying one open when she heard her name being yelled. "Alex!" Sam pointed up towards a stack of old rusty trucks. "Stay here," he instructed as he started to scale them. "Bobby?" he yelled again. "Hang on, Bobby, I'm coming!" 

"Is he up there?" Alex tipped her head in confusion, but she didn't question Sam's instructions; her head still swam, and the last thing she wanted to do was climb a pile of rust. She watched as he pried off a rusty door near the top of the stack, and a rush of terror ran up her spine as Sam was suddenly thrown backwards by an invisible force. 

He hit the hood of a car below, the wind knocked out of him, and the ghostly figure of a girl flickered as it landed on top of him, its pale hands gripping his throat. Alex rushed forward and swung her weapon, and the spirit disappeared with a screech. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Y-Yeah." Sam lay still for a moment, catching his breath, before he allowed Alex to help him back up. The car frames creaked, and Alex looked up to see the second ghost leaning out the truck; it disappeared a second later as Bobby thrust a crowbar through it. 

"Bobby!" Alex shouted his name, and the old hunter's eyes turned onto her. His chest was heaving as he drew in deep breaths, and after a second, he slowly began climbing down. 

"You okay?" he asked, and Alex watched as his gaze moved up to her bloody forehead. 

"Yeah, I'm okay," she promised. "Concussion, most likely, but I'm fine. Those ghosts — why'd they go after you and leave me?" 

"No idea." Bobby turned to Sam with a small shrug, and then he looked around the salvage yard, a small frown on his face. "Where's Dean?"

"He's looking for you in the house," Sam explained. 

"Well, go get him." Bobby shook his head as Sam hurried off towards the house. "Idjit," he muttered under his breath before he followed, Alex close at his tail. "Glad you're okay, by the way." 

"Yeah. Right back at you." Alex opened the back door and moved into the house. "Sam?" she called, making her way into the study. "Dean?" 

"Bobby?" Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and a few seconds later Dean hurried into view. Alex stepped aside to let the older hunter step into view, and Dean's green eyes flashed in relief. "Are you okay?" 

"As good as ever." Bobby placed his crowbar on his desk before turning back to Sam and Dean. "About time you guys showed up." 

"Sorry. We ran into a vengeful spirit of our own," Sam explained quietly, and Alex tipped her head, curious by his words. Even more vengeful spirits? So many in a short span of time couldn't be a coincidence. 

Bobby turned to her, and, seeing the pensive expression upon her face, asked, "Well? You got all this figured out yet?" 

The young girl thought for one more second before she answered. If it wasn't a coincidence, then there wasn't much else it could be. "Yeah, I think so." She turned to Sam and Dean. "Who exactly did you run into?" 

"Hendrickson. He was an FBI agent." 

"And Meg," Dean put in. "Or, at least, the poor girl she was possessing. She was upstairs," he explained when Sam gave him a sharp look of surprise, and he limped over to the black couch, shot gun in hand. 

Sam frowned, but he didn't push his brother for any more details. "Okay, so these are all people we knew."

"They're all people you couldn't save," Alex corrected. "Right. Yeah, I know what's going on. Did any of you notice some sort of mark — like a brand — on them?" Both Sam and Dean nodded, and Alex scrambled through the desk to find a black sheet of paper. "Can you draw it?" 

"Yeah, sure." Sam joined her at the desk, and his pen scratched against the paper as he quickly sketched what he had seen. "There." He handed it to Alex, who in turn passed it to Bobby. 

"Look familiar?" 

Bobby gave a slow nod. "I may have seen this before. At the very least I know where to start." The lights flickered, and he looked up. "We got to move." 

Dean rose to his feet. "Move where?" 

"Somewhere safe, you idjit." Bobby grabbed a pile of books and quickly led them down the stairs to the basement. He took a sharp u-turn and led them through a thick iron door guarded by a devil's trap on the floor. A small room lay beyond, its walls made of iron, and another devil's trap lay embedded in the ceiling above their heads. Shelves lined the rounded walls, filled with weapons of every kind, along with provisions, a cot, and even an old radio. 

Sam let out a breath of amazement. "Bobby, is this …" 

"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. Hundred percent ghost proof." Bobby closed the door behind them, and it locked with a soft click. 

"You build a panic room?" Dean turned to examine a rifle that was leaning against the wall, and he ran his fingers across the wall. 

Bobby shrugged. "I had the weekend off." 

"Bobby." 

"What?" 

Dean let out a wide grin, turning back to the old hunter. "You're awesome." 

"I know." Bobby set his books down on the small wooden table. "You two start making salt rounds. Alex, you're with me." He sat down in a chair and picked up the first book. Alex glanced over her shoulder to watch the brothers settle on the cot to begin their task, and she sighed as she settled on the floor next to Bobby. "Fine. What exactly are we looking for?" The only response she got was Bobby handing her the picture Sam had drawn. With a sigh, she picked up a book and turned to the first page. 

 

**T** hey sat in silence for hours — Alex last track of the passing time — the two Winchesters packing salt rounds, Alex and Bobby reading their books. Dean was the first to finally speak up, and the sound of his voice had Alex leaning her head back against the metal wall to watch him. "See, this is why I can't get behind God," he began. 

Sam looked over at his brother, and even Bobby looked up from his notes. "What are you talking about?" Sam asked. 

Dean shook his head. "If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason. Just random, horrible, evil. I get it, okay? I can roll with it. But if he's out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are being torn to shreds. How does he live with himself? Why doesn't he help?" 

His question was met with silence. Both Winchesters turned to look at Bobby, who shook his head. "I ain't touching that one with a ten foot pole." 

Alex turned back to her book and turned the page. "Problem of evil," she muttered under her breath, skimming through the text. 

Dean heard her. "Excuse me?" 

"The problem of evil." Alex looked up, her face flushing and her mouth drying out as she faced the hunter. "That's what you were describing. What?" she added, glancing up at Bobby. "I think theology is pretty cool." 

"Alright, hot shot. How'd you explain it?" Dean leaned forward, and Alex averted her gaze, letting it fall onto her feet. 

"Well," she began quietly, "w-we could talk about free will, or about how, uh, how declaring such a problem implies universal morality, thereby necessitating a God …" 

"Found it." Bobby cut into her soft and awkward ramblings, diverting the brother's attention away from her. 

Sam leaned forward curiously. "Found what?" 

"The symbol you saw." He lifted up the book so all three could see the circular sigil scrawled on the top of the page. "The brand on the ghosts. It's the Mark of the Witness," he added when Alex prompted him with a puzzled hum. 

"Witness?" Sam repeated. "Witness to what?" 

"The unnatural." Bobby set the book down as he paraphrased his findings. "None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts, they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony; they were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Somebody rose them on purpose." 

"Who?" 

Bobby scoffed at Dean's question. "Do I look like I know?" The two brothers exchanged looks, and the old hunter added, "But whoever did used a spell so powerful it left a mark — a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called 'the rising of the witnesses.' It figures into an ancient prophecy." Bobby turned the book as Sam got up and walked over to the table, and Alex scooted out of the way. 

"Wait, wait." Dean stood up and joined his brother. "What book is that prophecy from?" 

"Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know. But long story short —"

"Revelations." Alex finished Bobby's sentence. She ran her finger down the pages of the Bible. "Revelations 11 talks about two witnesses who were killed but later came back to life. Doesn't really correlate to what's going on here, but hey; I'll give them creative license." She felt Dean cast her a strange look out of the corner of his eye, but she chose to ignore it. 

Bobby nodded in agreement with her assessment. "This is a sign, boys." 

Both Sam and Dean spoke in unison. "Of what?" 

"The apocalypse." 

The iron room fell silent as the two brothers struggled to comprehend what they had just heard. "Apocalypse?" Dean finally repeated. "The apocalypse apocalypse?" He looked between Alex and Bobby, but when neither of them relented, he let out a nervous laugh. "The four horsemen, pestilence, five-dollar-a-gallon gas apocalypse?" He laughed again. Sam simply stood silent, his eyes wide with disbelief. 

"Actually, Pestilence is one of the four horsemen …" Alex started to correct him, but she was interrupted by Bobby. 

"That's the one," he agreed. "The rise of the witness is a …" Bobby paused, searching for the right words, "a mile marker." 

Sam slowly cleared his throat. "Okay, so what do we do now?" 

Dean shrugged. "Road trip Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience." Dean suddenly clapped his hands together loudly, and Alex jumped at the sound. "Bunny Ranch," he added humorously as he walked back over to the cot and sat down. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's inability to take their situation seriously. 

Bobby shared Sam's displeasure. "First things first," he warned before turning to Alex. "How do we survive our friends out there?" 

"Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgement Day?" Dean added. 

Alex ignored his snark, instead rolling her eyes up into her head to think before she looked back up at Bobby. "There should be a spell, right?" She wasn't certain, but the way Bobby had asked her made her question if his words had been a test. 

Her suspicions were proven correct when the hunter nodded. "Good; glad we're on the same page." He pointed down to his notes. "I found one that should send the witnesses back to rest. Should work." 

"Should," Sam repeated. "Great." 

Bobby ignored him. "If I translated everything correctly, we should have everything we need here at the house." 

"Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?" Dean asked, but before he had finished his words, Alex knew the answer. 

Bobby scoffed. "So you think our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden? Spell's got to be cast over an open fire." 

Alex looked over at the closed door, and a shiver passed down her spine at the thought of going back to face the ghosts. "We could start a fire right here," she offered quietly. "It sounds a lot more appealing than going up to the fireplace."

"We don't have all the ingredients. So suit up." Bobby got to his feet and crossed over to the cupboard that housed his collection of shotguns. He handed Alex a sawed-off, and she hesitantly accepted a handful of rounds from Dean. Her hands knew her way around the weapon, and loaded it with ease, but trepidation sat heavily within her stomach. "Cover each other," Bobby instructed as he handed two guns to Sam and Dean. "And aim careful. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you, okay?" 

"Okay." Alex took up her place behind Sam and Dean, gun firmly held in her hands. She shifted her stance as Bobby opened the door, half expecting the ghosts to be waiting, but the basement was silent. Bobby was the first to exit, waving Alex after him. She followed, the two brothers on her tail. 

The basement was silent, almost chillingly so, and the young girl was thankful that she was in the middle of the group, protected on all sides by hunters. She turned to peer behind the stairs when a foreign voice had her jumping in surprise. "Hey, Dean. You remember me?" 

A man sat up on the wooden stairs, his cold, dead eyes staring down at the Winchester. He looked familiar, with his thickset form and long, curly hair. Alex searched her fear-gripped mind for a name before Dean spoke. "Ronald, huh?" Dean nodded in remembrance. "With the laser eyes? I wish I could say it was good to see you." 

"Cybermen." The name clicked into place, and Alex murmured, "He thought they were were cybermen." 

Ronald rose to his feet, and his face twisted with barely controlled rage. "I'm dead because of you! You were supposed to help me —" He disappeared into thin air, but Alex barely noticed, having been distracted by the loud gunshot that had her flinching away from its source. 

Bobby paused to reload, his blue eyes catching Dean's. "If you're gonna shoot, shoot. Don't talk." He snapped the barrel of his gun back up to its stock before he slowly led the way up the stairs. They creaked beneath their weight, and, despite having climbing those stairs every day for the past four months, Alex felt her heart pound in the irrational fear of a collapse. 

They reached the study, and Bobby immediately set down his gun to pick up a wooden bowl. Sam started laying a salt line around them, their last defense between them and the spirits, and Dean moved behind them to start the fire. Left with nothing else to do, Alex positioned herself beside the desk, gun at the ready. She heard the desk drawers slide open as the old hunter searched for ingredients for his spell. "Sam." Bobby's voice had Alex turning. “Upstairs, linen closet. Red hex box. It'll be heavy." 

Sam nodded and hurried away, and Dean joined Alex at the edge of the salt line. 

The air flickered in front of them, and the two girls appeared in the doorway, dressed in white dresses that made their pale, bloodless skin seem even paler. "Bobby." One of them spoke, but Dean spun around and shot her before she could say anything else. Alex aimed her own shotgun at the second, and it disappeared as her own weapon discharged. The recoil stung her arms, but the adrenaline dulled the pain. 

"Kitchen," Bobby directed Dean, barely looking away from his project. "Cutlery drawer. It's got a false bottom. Hemlock, opium, wormwood." 

Dean nodded, taking three steps for the kitchen, but before he reached it, he turned back in surprise. "Opium?" he repeated.

Bobby looked up. "Go!" he snapped, and Alex frowned that Dean had even taken the time to stop and ask. 

As soon as Dean passed through the kitchen door, the two girls appeared, cutting him off from Alex and Bobby. "Bobby." The first one spoke again. "You walked right by us while that monster ate us up." 

Alex emptied her round into the girl's chest, and she disappeared, but the second picked up where her twin had left off. "You could have saved us," she insisted, but Bobby shot her before she could say another word. 

The sliding doors that led into the kitchen suddenly slammed shut, and Alex jumped in surprise. "Dean?" she yelled, and she prayed that her voice didn't shake with as much fear as she felt. 

"I'm alright!" came the response. "Bobby, keep working!" 

Alex nodded and stepped back, quickly reloading with deft yet trembling hands. Her grey eyes darted around the room, searching for any signs of the flickering souls, and she drew in a deep breath through her nose to steady her limbs. She heard voices in the kitchen, followed by the thud of a gun hitting the tile floor. The tell-tale sound of a struggle ensued, and Alex cast a worried glance in its direction. "Dean?" she called out. 

No answer came, and, as adrenaline pulsed through her veins, she jumped across the salt line, ignoring Bobby's yells for her to come back. There was a gunshot right next to her, and she flinched away as something tore at her arm — salt round, no doubt — but she kept her attention on the door. She threw her weight against it, but it barely budged. Another shot sounded behind her, and she struggled with the door handle. The door shook, then caved beneath her, and Alex stumbled through to find a tall, dark man with his hand inside Dean's chest. The Winchester's eyes were wide, his mouth open in a silent scream, and Alex's gun flew up as her fingers closed around the trigger. 

The spirit disappeared with a snarl as the salt rounds tore through him, embedding themselves in the cabinet behind him, and Dean collapsed. "Dean!" Alex backed up into a wall, eyes flickering between her surroundings and the Winchester. "Are you okay?" 

"N-No." Dean shakily pulled himself to his feet, and it took him several seconds before he bent back down to pick up his gun. 

"Come on." Alex hurried passed him and scooped up Bobby's ingredients as Dean slowly made his way back to the study. He sunk down onto a chair to reload his gun, and Alex launched herself across the salt line as one of the girls appeared right at her side. A gunshot had her ears ringing, and she winced as she dropped the plastic bags onto the desk. "Here." 

Bobby didn't thank her; the only response her actions elicited was a muttered, "Idjit." The stairs creaked as Sam returned, and he placed the heavy metal box down beside Bobby; the old hunter's attention immediately turned onto it, and Alex stepped away. 

She turned back to see a figure standing in the corner of the room, and her hair stood on end. "Ronald," Dean greeted, rising back to his feet. "Hey, come on, man. I thought we were friends." 

"That was when I was breathing." The ghost's dark eyes flashed maliciously as he growled out his words. "Now I'm going to eat you alive." 

"Not on my watch." Alex's gun fired, and the ghost disappeared. She retreated back to stand behind Bobby as she checked her barrel: empty. She dug through her pockets to find three more rounds. She shoved them into her gun as Dean shot a ghost from across the room, and over the blast she heard Bobby's murmured recital of Latin. 

The study windows were suddenly thrown open, and wind rushed through from the darkened sky outside. The salt line faltered beneath the gale, Sam's work blown to bits, but even as Alex reached for the bag of salt, it was thrown out of her grasp, landing far across the room. The line, broke, and the young girl backpedaled in fear to find a woman flicker into existence in front of her: Meg. 

"Duck!" Sam's voice had Alex hitting the ground, and she shielded her face as Sam's gun discharged. Bobby's voice was low and fast, rattling off the complex spell as quickly as he dared, and Alex jumped back to her feet, grabbing her gun and hurrying to Bobby's side. She caught sight of Agent Hendrickson out of the corner of her eye; he disappeared as quickly as he appeared, caught in the spread of flying rock-salt. 

The wind howled, drowning out Bobby's words. "Duck!" she barely heard Dean yell, and she crouched as he fired over their heads. Now that the salt line was broken, the ghosts were appearing with a newfound vengeance. Alex shot Ronald, then Meg, then one of the little girls. She turned to shoot the second twin, but her gun only clicked; empty. She dropped it on the ground and backpedaled to the fireplace, fingers wrapping around one of the iron pokers that hung there. She stepped forward, then recoiled at the blur of a gun flying across the room.

Dean yelled his brother's name, and Alex turned to see Sam pinned against the wall by a small desk, the two young girls closing in. "Protect Bobby!" Sam yelled back, but Alex was already halfway to him. She swung the poker, dispelling one girl, but before she could wind up to reach the other, she was thrown across the room. She landed — thankfully — on the couch, her head protected from trauma by the leather seats. 

She slithered onto the floor and her fingers closed around her weapon as one of the ghosts appeared in front of her; one swing through the calf sent the spirit packing. Alex struggled back to her feet at the sound of Bobby crying out, and her eyes went wide to see Meg. Her hand was deep within the hunter's back, and Bobby's jaw was clenched in pain. "Dean!" he got out.

On an act of impulse, Alex threw the iron poker across the room. Her aim fell true, passing through the spirit's head, and Bobby was released from her hold. He spun around and threw the bowl of ingredients into the fire, and the flames flashed with a eerie blue light that spread, filling the entire room. Dean dropped to the ground, and Alex covered her eyes as it grew even brighter. 

It faded, and Bobby collapsed onto the ground. 

"Bobby?" Dean crawled over to his friend, and, with a grunt, Sam pushed away the heavy desk and hurried over to join them. Together, the Winchesters helped Bobby back to his feet. 

"Hey — are you okay?" Alex drew in a deep, shaking breath, still riding high on her adrenaline. 

Bobby gave a small nod. “Good throw.“ 

“I played softball.” The young girl grinned in relief as she looked between the three hunters in front of her. Her gaze traversed the empty and battered room, and she felt her muscles quiver with excitement. "That, uh …" She shook her head, words failing her as she fruitlessly tried to describe what they all had just experience. Instead, she turned her attention to the clock on the wall. “So. Anybody hungry?" 

Sam's eyebrows rose, and Dean's face scrunched in confusion. "You’re thinking about food?" he asked. "Now?" 

"Yeah. Haven't eaten all day." Alex looked down as her stomach growled in agreement. She could feel the adrenaline beginning to fade, and with it, she was beginning to feel again. Hunger, exhaustion, pain. She turned her attention to the stinging in her arm. The fabric of her sleeve was torn, tinged faintly with blood, but the wound wasn't deep nor life-threatening. 

"Fine," she heard Dean say. "Let's clean up this mess a bit first, alright? Then we'll grab some grub."

Satisfied, Alex nodded, but she felt her heart sink a bit at the task that lay before them. Thunder cracked, and eyes moved out the broken windows. She had wrongly assumed that it was night; the dark sky was a result of clouds promising rain. It was barely 6:00 in the evening. "Okay," she agreed, and she stooped to begin picking up the empty shells. Sam pushed the desk back into its place against the wall, and Dean brushed past her as he began to sweep up the salt and glass that covered the wooden floor. 

"Hey, Alex." Bobby spoke up from where he was re-stacking his books in the corner, and Alex hummed in acknowledgement as she turned to look at him. "Go get those books down in that room for me, okay?" 

Alex nodded and hurried out of the room, flying down the stairs and into the basement. The grey light filtered through the half windows, filling the dusty room with an eerie light. She wrenched open the iron door and quickly gathered up the books — stacking up Bobby's notes on top of them — before she hurried away. Despite the fact that the spell had clearly worked, she felt fear prickle at her spine, and she kept casting looks around in case a ghost decided to suddenly appear. 

"Thanks." Bobby took the books from her when she reached the study, and he placed them onto their appropriate shelves. "Hey, good work out there." 

"Uh, yeah, thanks." Alex returned to her task, face flushing at Bobby's praise. Four months spent with him, and that was the first time she had gotten a compliment for working a case — of course, the young girl corrected, this was the first case where Bobby hadn't explicitly refused to let her get involved in any supernatural altercation. 

"That your first ghost?" Dean paused in passing beside the young girl, broom in hand. 

"Yeah." Alex scooped up a handful of shotgun shells. "First one I've gone up against, at least. I usually get sidelined when it comes to actually fighting them." She heard Bobby give a disgruntled noise under his breath, but she bit her tongue; they had had that argument enough times for Alex to know how it would play out, and now was neither the time nor the place. 

"You okay?" Dean's words had her looking up, and Alex tipped her head. 

"What?" She got to her feet. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Her eyes turned to the small cut on her arm, wondering if that was what his question was about, but before she could ask, Dean scoffed. 

"Come on. I get it; I'm a hunter, too. It's a load of crap, and it's sure as hell not easy. First case —"

"Dean, I'm fine." Alex crossed over to the desk and dropped the shells onto it. "I've been with Bobby for months, and this wasn't the first time I've encountered crazy. Besides, there's a lot worse out there." She turned to look up into the Winchester's green eyes. "Yeah, this is all a lot different from the show. It's more intense, more terrifying, and unlike the show this can actually kill you. But this — this is nothing." 

"Just because it gets worse doesn't mean you can handle it now." 

Alex turned to face Sam, a scowl on her face. "And I'm sure you handle everything just perfectly," she snapped. "I mean, it's not like you still have nightmares about Jess, right?" She immediately regretted her words when Sam stiffened, but she refused to apologize. 

"I think we're done for now." Bobby broke into their bickering, and Alex turned her head away. "Let's go eat." 

 

**T** hey ate at a small diner in town and returned to Bobby's, too exhausted to do anything else but go to sleep. The two Winchesters set up camp in the study, Sam taking the couch, with Dean setting up a makeshift bed on the swept-clean floor. Alex slowly followed Bobby up the stairs, turning into her own bedroom and collapsing onto the bed in the corner. It creaked beneath her weight as she worked her way under the covers. 

She tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep as the images of ghosts haunted her mind. The clouds had cleared, and moonlight drifted through the window, casting shadows all about her room. 

Finally, as midnight rolled around, she threw off the covers and got out of bed, her bare feet silent on the wooden floor. She quietly snuck down the stairs, holding her breath as they creaked beneath her; she didn't want to wake the two brothers that slept in the next room. She slipped on a pair of shoes and reached for Dean's jacket that hung on the hook beside the front door. There was a soft sound from the kitchen, like a flutter of wings, and she turned in surprise. Castiel stood there beside the sink, his gaze upon her; his blue eyes seemed to glow in the low light. "Hi." Alex let out a soft smile as she whispered the word, and she took a step forward to stand in the doorway to the kitchen. "You looking for Dean?" She nodded her head towards the study, where the feet of the slumbering Winchester could be seen. "He's over there." 

"Yes." Castiel dipped his head in acknowledgement; his voice rumbled softly as he mimicked her quiet speech. "I can see that." 

"Do you want me to wake him?"

The angel shook his head. "I can wait." He turned to face the study, leaning against the counter as he fell silent, and Alex shrugged, choosing not to read too much into his cold politeness. 

"Awesome." She moved back towards the front door, and it opened with a low creak. "Stay safe, Cas." She heard Dean stir slightly, and she slipped out into the night. Safely outside, she set out to slowly wander among the cars. The stars twinkled with their cold, dead light in the dark sky, and she shivered as another cold breeze rushed between the twisted piles of metal. 

She paused beside an old car, a 1965 Chevelle that was still intact, and she climbed up upon the metal hood and leaned back against the windshield. A plane passed overhead, its red lights blinking as it traversed the inky night, and Alex pulled Dean's jacket tighter around her as she let herself slip off into her thoughts. 

She didn't remember her eyes closing, but they must have, for when she opened them once again, she let out a half-startled cry. "Dammit!" she cursed, half falling, half slithering off of the car. The sun wasn't yet up, but the grey sky already hinting at the promise of another cloudless day. The bare light barely illuminated the salvage yard around her, but the figure standing in front of her was obvious. "Don't do that!" 

"My apologies." Castiel watched her rise back to her feet, and Alex brushed the dust off of her jeans.

She straightened up, eyeing the angel that stood only a few inches in front of her. "Mind taking a step back?" she asked. "I mean, no offense, but I like a _bit_ of personal space." 

The angel took a step back. "Is this adequate?" he inquired. 

"Yeah, that's fine, Cas." Alex brushed her hair back out of her face, smoothing down the tangles. "How long have you been standing there?" 

"No long." Castiel studied her with his brilliant blue eyes, squinted slightly. "Why do you call me 'Cas'?" 

The young girl shrugged. "It's shorter than Castiel. 'Castiel' takes too long to say. 'Cas' is quick and short, something I can yell. Besides," she added. "It suits you. But, uh, I'm guessing you didn't come here to ask about your nickname, am I right? What's up?" 

The angel blinked slowly, the faintest sign of acknowledgment. "I need you to tell me exactly what it is that you know." 

"Sorry." Alex firmly shook her head. "No way, Jose. No future telling." 

"The lives of thousands of angels are at stake here." Castiel's head lifted up, and his shoulders rolled back, and Alex shifted backwards. "Would you honestly just let them die?" 

"That's not the point," Alex snapped. "I can't change anything. If I do, and if everything changes, then what use am I? I'll have no leverage against anyone, no protection. What if something worse happens because of me? So no." She crossed her arms. "I'm not telling you anything until I decide that it's time." 

"Alex." Castiel stepped forward, halving the gap between them. "I am an angel of the Lord. You should show me some respect." 

Alex refused to back down, and she lifted her chin despite the dark look on the angel's face. "No," she corrected. “ _You_ should show _me_ some respect. I know things that you would never want to know. Things about you, your future, your friends, and your superiors. Things that can change this war for the worst. But I won't." Her voice dropped into a whisper. "Because I'm on your side, Cas _tiel_. But I'm _not_ your weapon." 

She paused to let her words sink in, head raised in defiance. Castiel's eyes narrowed, and for several seconds, no one spoke. 

It was Alex who finally broke the silence. "I should get back to the house. Bobby will be wondering where I am." She pushed her way past the the angel, wincing at how it felt like she was shouldering a unmoving brick wall. "Think on what I said, Cas," she added slowly as she paused, looking back to look at the angel; he remained still, the only sign of his acknowledgement being his head turning to the side to watch her out of the corner of his eye. "I need to know whether or not I can trust you." She stalked away, leaving her words hanging in the silent dawn air. 

 

**S** he had trouble sleeping after her conversation with Castiel, and finally, at six am, she gave up and snuck downstairs. Dean was still asleep on the study floor, but Sam was up, leaning against the counter in the kitchen as he prepared a pot of coffee. "Hey," she greeted quietly, and she leaned up against the doorframe, cautious about getting too closer to the younger Winchester when no one else was around. 

However, Sam's face was passive. "Hey," he greeted in return, and he walked back to the couch in the study. Alex half followed, but she stopped mid-stride when Dean's eyes snapped open, suddenly wide awake. "You alright?" Sam sat down on the couch, watching his brother with curious eyes. When Dean didn't respond, he prompted, "You okay, Dean?" 

Dean Winchester slowly sat up, and Alex watched as his face fell in pensive thought. "So …" he slowly began, "you have no problem believing in … God and angels?" 

Sam blinked, and his gaze flickered over to Alex, surprised at the deep, sudden question. "No," he admitted, "not really." 

"Nope," Alex added, chiming in. 

Dean paused, and Alex lifted her eyebrows, curious as to whether this conversation was fueled by Castiel's presence last night. "So I guess that means that you believe in the devil?"

Sam frowned. "Why are you asking me this?"

Dean opened his mouth, half ready to say something, but he changed his mind. Alex watched as he got to his feet without another word and disappeared to the bathroom. She turned to catch Sam's questioning look, and she shrugged. "Don't ask me." She moved back into the kitchen and began to prepare a breakfast for herself; a bowl from the cupboard, cereal from on top of the fridge, milk from — Alex pushed the beers aside and pulled out the milk carton. "Dude." She unscrewed the cap and frowned. 

"What?" Sam looked up, and Alex's frown deepened even further. 

"Milk?" She turned the plastic jug upside down; not even a drop remained. Sam shrugged, and she tossed the carton at his feet. "Seriously, I swear I buy milk every other day. It's bad enough with Bobby." She grabbed the cereal box and stalked over to the desk, where she sat down with a huff. "You sleep okay?" she inquired as she dug out a handful of dry cereal. 

Sam gave a noncommittal shrug. "Yeah. You?"

"I suppose." The young girl leaned back in the wooden chair and threw her feet up onto the desk, crossing them at her ankles. 

Dean reentered the room, and Alex fell silent. "I saw Castiel last night," he announced quietly. "Apparently heaven is at war." 

"Yeah, I saw him, too," Alex agreed. "In the kitchen just before you woke up. Is that what he wanted to tell you? He wouldn't talk to me, so I just left." Her face darkened as she remembered her conversation with the angel, at his attempt to intimidate her into breaking. "We talked for a bit afterwards, though — nothing about heaven, though. I think he tried to threaten me into telling him what I knew, so I sort of threatened him back —"

"Hey. Feet off the desk." Bobby cut into her rambling, and Alex quickly obliged as he entered the room, making sure to shove a handful of cereal into her mouth in a passive aggressive act of retaliation. Bobby only rolled his eyes and disappeared into the kitchen. 

“ _You_ threatened Castiel?" Dean repeated, and his eyes sparkled with disbelief as he took in her small, lean stature. "Right. Because he threatened me, and he seems like the kind of guy you, you know, don't push."

The young girl shrugged. "He's a big softie," she promised. "He's just got to warm up a bit and pull that stick out of his ass." She turned to Sam, an eyebrow cocking to find his gaze upon her. "What's up, Sammy?"

"Don't call me Sammy." Sam got up and moved after Bobby into the kitchen; he was too far away to hear Alex mutter "Sammy," under her breath. 

"So, when are we leaving?" Dean asked his brother in passing, and Alex quickly closed up the cereal box, interest lighting up her eyes. 

"Where are we going?" she asked, getting to her feet. She tossed Bobby the cereal box, ignoring his admonition of throwing around food; her attention was fully focused on Sam and Dean. 

Dean only scoffed at her statement. "No. No you. Me and Sam."

"Sure. You and Sam. And me." Alex circled around the desk to stand in front of him, and she reached up to draw her blonde hair up into a pony tail. "I want to come with you guys this time." Dean scoffed again, and she frowned. "Come on! Why not?" 

"Oh I don't know." The Winchester crossed his arms, his biceps bulging. "Let's see. Maybe because you're twelve, because you have almost zero hunting experience. Maybe because you're annoying. So why don't you stay here with Bobby and figure out whatever the hell it is that we're up against." 

"I'm not twelve!" Alex retorted hotly. "And I'm more use to you when I'm with you guys. I'm no use here, Dean. Bobby can managed just as well without me." 

"It's fine," Bobby added. "I've got everything covered here. Take her out for a few days and let her stretch her legs. She's worn path in the carpet with all her damn pacing." 

Alex held her breath as the two Winchesters exchanged looks; a silent conversation passed between the two, but eventually Dean threw his hands up. "Fine," he reluctantly relented. "She can come. You want to spend eight hours in the car, fine," he added to Alex. "But if you start complaining, we're leaving you on the side of the road." 

Alex rolled her eyes, not buying into the Winchester's threat. "Count me in. Give me five minutes to pack up my things." She hurried up towards the stairs, pausing near the top as Dean started towards the front door. "And don't you dare leave without me!"


	5. In the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Each chapter is named after the episodes because I'm lazy. Just FYI

**September 25, 2008**

**T** hey drove for the entire day. After listening to Dean's cassettes a couple times, Alex and Dean quickly agreed that the three best songs were _Ramble On, Eye of the Tiger_ , and _Wanted Dead of Alive_. Dean tried to vouch for _Traveling Riverside Blues_ , but Alex quickly threw it out. Sam listened to their heated debate quietly, not bothering to add his opinion. 

 

 **Detroit, Michigan**

**A** round midnight, Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a small motel. While Sam got a room, Alex helped Dean unload their duffle bags from the trunk and they made their way towards the rooms. Sam joined them, and unlocked the door. He stepped inside and turned on the lights. "So how are we suppose to sleep?" Dean finally asked, looking around. "See, this is why you don't come along." He motioned towards the two beds.

"You don't want me because there's not enough _beds_?" Alex could barely contain her disbelief. 

"I can sleep on the couch." Sam tossed his bag onto the worn piece of furniture. 

"Cool. I'll take this one." Alex launched herself onto the farthest queen-sized bed. 

Dean said nothing, but swung his duffle bag onto the remaining bed. "Well, I'm heading straight to bed." He glanced at the clock, and proceeded to collapse on the mattress. Alex yawned and closed her eyes, not really bothering to change into more comfortable clothes; she was too tired. 

 

 **S** he woke to hear movement in the room. She opened her eyes to see Sam slip on his jacket. "Where you going?" she whispered. 

Sam jumped, and adverted his gaze guiltily. "Nowhere."

"Ruby?" Alex guessed. It wasn't hard to tell; she didn't think Sam would look so guilty getting a beer.

"Don't tell Dean," he whispered back.

"If I was going to, I would have told him long ago," Alex promised. She propped herself up on her elbows. "Now go. You don't want to miss your date." She watched Sam quickly leave the room. The door locked with a small click. She closed her eyes and lay quietly for a few more minutes. On the other bed, Dean tossed and turned. Alex opened her eyes and watched him worriedly. After a few seconds, Castiel appeared. Alex quickly shut her eyes, watching him through barely closed eyes. The angel sat down on the bed next to Dean. 

Suddenly, Dean gasped and jerked awake. 

"Hello, Dean," Castiel spoke. "What were you dreaming about?" 

"What, do you get your freak on by watching other people sleep?" Dean struggled through his tiredness to sit up. "What do you want?" 

"Listen to me. You have to stop it." 

"Stop what?" Dean was silenced as Castiel reached out and touched him gently on the forehead with two fingers. Both Dean and Cas disappeared.

Alex sat up with a start. "Great," she spoke out loud. "Just leave me here alone." After a small pause, she added, "Oh yeah. By the way, Cas, don't know if your listening, but I'm sorry if I insulted you. So yeah. And remember to bring Dean back. He's my ride." With that, she slowly fell back to sleep. 

 

 **"I** couldn't stop any of it!" 

Alex groggily rolled over at the sound of Dean's voice. "Keep it down," she grumbled, but sat up and glanced at the clock. 2:52. Alex groaned. Two hours. He'd been gone for two hours.

Dean had sat up and was staring at Castiel, who was standing at the foot of the bed. "She still made the deal. She still died in the nursery, didn't she?" He ignored Alex. 

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Castiel spoke quietly. 

"You couldn't have stopped it anyways," Alex cut him off, connecting the fuzzy dots. She thought she remembered what was going on. She kept her statement vague just in case. "Now please, keep it down?" 

"What?" Dean stared at Alex. 

"Destiny can't be changed, Dean," Castiel explained. "All roads lead to the same destination." 

"Then why'd you send me back?" 

"For the truth. Now you know everything we do." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean challenged. Castiel didn't answer, but turned to look at the couch. Dean followed his gaze. "Where's Sam?" He looked over at Alex. 

"We know what Azazel did to your brother. What we don't know is why -- what his endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up." 

"Where's Sam," Dean repeated, stepping towards the angel. 

"425 Waterman." 

Dean jumped out of bed and grabbed his jacket. Alex followed slowly. 

"You're brother is headed down a dangerous path, Dean, and we're not sure where it leads. Stop it, or we will," Castiel warned. He glanced at Alex. Dean grabbed his keys and ran out the door. 

"All roads lead to the same destination," Alex quietly quoted back to Cas. With that, she walked out the door, leaving the angel standing in the darkened room, alone. 

 

 **A** lex climbed into the front seat. Dean started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, taking off down the road. "Would you like explaining all of this to me?" Dean asked tensely. 

"Promise not to kill me?" 

"That doesn't make me feel any better." Dean tightened his grip on the wheel. 

Alex took a deep breath. "Sam's been, um, hanging out with, well, a demon," she began, "and um, getting stronger? Killing-demons-with-his-mind kind of stronger." She decided not to tell him about the demon blood part. Not quite yet. 

"You're lying," Dean whispered quietly. He pushed down on the gas petal, and the car accelerated. 

"I don't lie." Alex didn't say anything else, and Dean didn't press her, too angry to form words. 

**T** hey pulled off the main road and drove up to a warehouse with the address 425 Waterman. Dean jumped out of the car and crept around to a window on the near side. Alex followed close. Peering inside, they saw Sam, a young woman, and a man, tied to a chair. As she watched, Sam stretched out his hand, and the man in the chair began to cough. Thick black smoke poured out of his mouth, burning into the floor. It stopped, and a small smile formed on the woman's lips. Sam reached over to the man. Dean looked at Alex in disbelief, who looked back at him sadly. He walked over to the closest door. He slowly opened it, revealing Sam, who was helping the man to his feet. Sam stopped cold. His gaze flickered over Dean's face, then down to Alex's, where it hardened. Alex knew he blamed her, but didn't have time to explain. 

"So, anything you want to tell me, Sam?" Dean said quietly, voice tight. 

"Dean, hold on, okay? Just let me-" 

"You gonna say, 'let me explain'? You're gonna explain this?" Dean's voice rose. "How about this? Why don't you start with who is this and what the hell is she doing here?" He slowly walked over to them. Alex followed at a distance. 

The dark haired woman looked over at him. "It's good to see you again, Dean." 

"Ruby?" Dean turned his attention to her. She smiled in acknowledgement. He turned back to his brother. "Is that Ruby?" 

Sam didn't respond. Dean looked over at Alex, then suddenly flew at Ruby, pinning her against a wall. He drew the demon blade, and tried to kill her. "Don't!" Sam flew forward and tried to wrestle the knife out of Dean's hand. Dean shoved him, and Sam flew back into a wall. Ruby took the opportunity to shove Dean against the wall, hands at his throat. Alex stepped forward, ready to help. "Ruby, don't!" Sam yelled. Ruby stopped, but continued to stare at Dean. He glared back. Ruby dropped her arm, and Dean straightened up. 

"Well aren't you Sam's obedient little bitch," he said coldly. Alex opened her mouth to say something. "Don't," Dean warned her. Ruby turned her attention to Alex. 

"I don't suppose we met." Ruby echoed Dean's coldness. 

Alex said nothing. 

"The name's Ruby." The demon extended a hand. "You must be Dean's bitch, then." 

"I don't trust you." Alex pulled the corner of her lip into a snarl. "Never have, never will." 

"Nice to meet you too." The demon held Alex's gaze.

"Ruby." Sam stepped in. "He's hurt." He motioned to the man on the floor. "Go." 

"Listen to Sammy," Alex sneered. Ruby glared at her, and her eyes flickered black. Alex resisted looking away; that was much creepier in real life. After a second, Ruby did as Sam asked. She helped the man to his feet, and began walking him to the door. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean asked. 

"The ER. Unless you want to go another round first." When Dean didn't respond, Ruby led the man out of the warehouse. 

Dean glared at Sam. "Dean," Sam began. 

Dean said nothing. He just headed for the door. 

"Dean!" Sam called. Alex glanced back at Sam. He glared at her angrily, and she ran out out after Dean. 

"Leave me alone," Dean growled as Alex opened the passenger door. He started the car. 

"No. You can't leave me here." Dean paused at the note of desperation in her voice. "Dean, Sam will _kill_ me. He probably thinks I told you about him and Ruby." She took a deep breath. "I'm not kidding. He will kill me. He'll make me wish I was dead!" Her breath grew ragged at the thought, and she looked at him desperately. "You can't leave me here, man." 

The hunter let out an angry breath. "Get in."

Alex got passenger seat and closed the door. They drove off down the street.


	6. Metamorphosis

**September 26th, 2008  
**

**Detroit, Michigan**

**T** hey didn't get back to the motel until late the next morning. Dean had refused to go back, and they had spent the rest of the night at a different motel. Dean climbed out of the car and slammed the door. Alex got out, but decided not to go in right away. Instead, she pulled out a dollar bill and headed over to the vending machine. She heard yelling, and a loud crash. Finally, curiosity got the best of her. She went over to the door and opened it. 

"I would want to hurt you-" Dean was yelling. 

Sam's eyes were watering, and he had a split lip and a bloody nose. He looked down at the ground. 

"--and so would other hunters!" Dean continued. Alex stepped inside. 

Sam looked up. When he saw her, his gaze instantly hardened. "You were gone. I was here. I had to keep on fighting without you. And what I do, it works," he insisted. 

"Well, tell me. If it's so terrific, then why'd you lie about it to me?" 

Sam didn't respond. He kept staring at Alex. She felt herself shrinking away from all the hate. 

"Why'd the angel tell me to stop you?" Dean went on. 

Sam looked back at his brother, surprised. "What?" 

"Cas said that if I don't stop you, he will. See what that means, Sam? That means God doesn't want you doing this. So are you just going to stand there and tell me everything is all good?" 

Sam couldn't meet his brother's gaze, so he looked down at the floor. They stood in silence. Dean was breathing heavily, and Alex stepped closer, putting him between her and Sam. Suddenly, Sam's phone rang. 

Sam answered it. "Hello? Hey Travis, yeah hey." Pause. "Uh," Another pause. "It's good to here your voice too, yeah. Um, look, it's not really a good time right now. It's--" A much longer pause. "Uh, yeah okay. Just give me the details, and uh . . ." Pause. "Carthage, Missouri." He walked over to the nightstand and scribbled something down. "Looking for Jack Montgomery. Right." With that, he hung up. Dean watched his younger brother, who looked up at them. "We've got a case." 

Dean was silent. Both Sam and Alex waited expectantly. Finally he let out a huff. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go." He grabbed his duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. 

Sam wiped the blood off his lip and began packing his things. Alex warily walked over to her bag, which was already packed, and picked it up. "Was it you?" Alex jumped at Sam's voice. 

"I told you. If I was going to tell Dean, I would have already done so." Alex turned and met his gaze. "I don't approve of it, Sammy, but I'm no snitch." 

Sam held her gaze for a few seconds. "I believe you," he finally said. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I'm not doing anything wrong, right? I'm saving people instead of killing them." He sounded like he was not only trying to convince Alex, but also himself. 

Alex sighed. "Just be careful. That's all I'm going to say." With that, she walked out of the motel. 

Sam joined them in the Impala. Alex purposely slid into the backseat, leaving the front to the two brothers. She dug around in her duffle bag before pulling out her MP3 player. "How long 'till Carthage?" 

"Five, six hours," Dean replied. 

"Sweet." Alex threw her feet across the backseat and leaned her back against the door, stretching out. She pulled her headphones out just in time, as _Rock of Ages_ Around a half an hour later, Dean suddenly changed the cassette. Alex lifted up on earpiece to see what he was playing. A large grin crossed her face as Eye of the Tiger began to play. Sam threw his head back and groaned. Alex tossed off her headphones and began drumming along with Dean, using Sam'sWanted Dead or Alive started up. Sam put his head in his hands. "Please don't," he grumbled. 

"You know you love it," Alex grinned. She reached forward and cranked up the music. Finally, much to Sam's thankfulness, the song was over. Dean reached back and gave Alex a high five. Alex smiled and leaned back. Dean turned off the music. 

 

 **"H** ey Sammy." 

"Yeah, what's up?" Sam looked up. Alex looked up from where she had been staring out the window. They had been driving all day, stopping only to eat and get gas, and now the sky was growing dark.

"Last night, when you were, um, you know, Cas visited me," Dean slowly explained. "Well, he did more then that. He sent me somewhere. 1973, to be exact." 

Sam looked surprised. "Like the year? He sent you back in time?" 

"Yeah, apparently he can, bend time, as he put it. Weird, right?" Dean let out a force laugh. "But, uh, he said I had to stop it." 

"Stop what?" Sam interrupted. 

"Just let me tell the story, will you?" Dean shot back. Sam didn't respond. "I saw someone. Well, several people." His voice caught in his throat. "I saw mom. And dad. And grandma, and grandpa." He took a deep breath.

"Start from the beginning," Sam advised. 

Dean did so, and recounted everything he had been through. How he had woken up on the bench, entered the diner and met John Winchester. He smugly mentioned how he had convinced John to buy Impala, but also described how their mother, Mary, had been a hunter, who wanted to get out of the life for her children's sake. He recounted his encounter with Azazel, and how he had been unable to prevent anything. 

Sam sat quietly, taking it all in. "I can't believe it. Mom, a hunter?" 

"I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't seen it myself," Dean promised. "That woman could kick some ass, I mean, she almost took me down." Alex let out a small, inaudible laugh. 

"How'd she look?" Sam asked, ignoring Alex. "I mean, was she happy?" 

"Yeah, she was awesome. Funny and smart. And so hopeful," Dean said quietly. He shot a sad glance Sam before returning his gaze to the darkening road. "Dad too, until of course . . ." He trailed off. "What?" He asked when Sam let out a quiet sigh. 

"Nothing." Sam looked out the window for a few seconds before turning back to Dean. "It's just, our parents. And now we find out our grandparents too? Our whole family murdered and for what? So Yellow Eyes could get in my nursery and bleed in my mouth?" 

Alex shot a sharp glance at Sam, but decided not to get into their conversation. 

Dean froze. "Sam, I never said anything about demon blood," he said quietly. Sam looked guiltily away. "You knew about that?" he asked, his voice growing angry. Sam didn't respond, and Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel. 

"Yeah, for about a year," he mumbled. 

"A whole year?" Dean stared out the windshield. 

"I should have told you," Sam said quietly. "I'm sorry." 

"You've been saying that a lot lately, Sam," Dean reminded tightly. "But you know what? Whatever. You don't want to tell me, you don't have to. It's fine." 

Sam looked over at his brother. "Dean." Dean didn't acknowledge him, but continued watching the road. "Whatever," he mumbled, giving up. Alex let out a quiet sigh. The air was full of tension and sadness, and it made her uncomfortable. She shifted, pressing her forehead into the glass of the side window, lost in thought. 

 

 **Carthage, Missouri**  


**T** he sky was dark by the time they pulled up to the curb in a small suburban area. Dean put the car into park, and got out, slowly walking around to the trunk. After a few seconds, he returned and handed Sam a pair of binoculars. Casting a quick glance around, they turned toward a house across the street. Alex could barely make out a man in a well lit kitchen. "Are you sure that's him?" Dean asked. 

"Only Jack Montgomery in town," Sam confirmed. Alex grunted in confirmation. She was currently sprawled out in the backseat. A few miles back, she had stopped in a local diner for a quick snack while the Winchesters went to the police station to ask about the whereabouts of this Montgomery fellow.

"And we're looking for . . ?" Dean's voice pulled her out of her reminiscence. 

"Travis said to keep an eye out for anything weird," Sam answered. 

"Helpful," Alex snorted. "I mean, that's why we're here, right? For weird stuff." She was shushed by Sam. Alex huffed and returned her attention to the window, squinting to make out what was going on. 

"She's got a point." Dean lowered the binoculars. "Besides, I've seen big weird, little weird, weird with crazy on top. But this guy? I mean common, this guy's boring." 

"I don't know Dean. Travis seemed pretty sure." 

Dean shrugged and raised his binoculars again, keeping a careful watch. For a few seconds they were quiet. Alex saw the man get up and walk over the the fridge. She squinted again, trying to make out what he was doing. Dean made a disgusted sound. Alex looked over to see both their faces screwed in revolt. "What's going on?" she asked. "Let me see." She took the binoculars from Dean and turned towards the house. She mimicked their disgust as she made out the man stuffing his face full of what appeared to be raw meat. 

"I'd say that qualifies as weird," Sam finally said. 

Alex wrinkled her nose and handed the binoculars back to Dean. "Gross." She turned back to the brothers. "Okay. Maybe Sam's got a point. We done here?" 

In response, Dean started up the car and drove off. 

 

 **H** e pulled into the nearest motel he could find. He checked them in to the Rainbow Motel, and Alex and Sam unloaded the trunk. They carried the duffle bags into the small room, and Alex dropped them at the door. She looked around the room. There were only two beds, and the room carried the theme of deer hunting. The walls were a dark wooden panelling with one section stone and mortar, and pictures of fishermen hung on the walls Alex snorted, studying the deer's head above the tv. "Hunting themed room. Appropriate." She glanced at the large mural of deer above the beds. "God this place smells." 

"Shut up and deal with it," Sam muttered. 

Alex looked offended and sat down on the near bed. 

"So where are you going to sleep?" Dean asked her. 

"What's that suppose to mean?" Alex looked over at the older Winchester. 

"There's only two beds," Sam explained. "One for me, one for Dean." 

"Well it looks like you're going to need to share. Any thoughts?" 

Dean narrowed his eyes at Alex. "Share?" 

"Sure, why not? They're king sized beds." Alex shrugged. "Or one of you can sleep on the floor."

"More like you can sleep on the floor," Dean grumbled. "You know what, we -- let's just deal with this in the morning, huh? I feel like I haven't slept in days." He grabbed a bag and disappeared into the bathroom. 

Alex watched him go. "What's biting him?" she huffed. 

Sam sat down on the other bed. They sat in silence until Dean returned. Sam jumped up, but Dean caught him by the arm. 

"Hey, Sammy. Favor to ask." 

"Yeah?" 

Dean handed Sam the keys. "Beer. Now." 

Sam rolled his eyes, but took the keys and left the room. Alex watched him leave. "Beer? Really?" 

Dean grunted. "We're going to need it." 

Alex stood up and picked up her duffle bag. She threw it next to her bed and opened it. She dug through it and frowned. "Hey, do you have a pair of sweatpants I could borrow?" she asked. "I didn't think of grabbing any." 

"Sammy might have a pair." Dean laid down on the bed. "Check his bag." 

Alex obliged and unzipped the bag that was still on the floor. She smiled as she pulled out sweatpants, grabbed a shirt, and disappeared into the bathroom. She stepped out a few minutes later, wearing Sam's sweatpants and a frown. "What's wrong?" Dean noticed. 

"These are a touch big." Alex looked down. The pant legs were almost six inches too long, and Alex tripped over the extra material every time she took a step. 

Dean let out a quiet laugh. He returned his attention to the flickering tv screen. Alex joined him, sprawling out on her bed. Dean cast her another glance. "Is that one of my shirts?" 

"Yeah." Alex shrugged. "I commandeered most of your shirts while you were in Hell." 

They lapsed into silence. 

 

 **S** am came back a little while later carrying two six packs. He frowned when he saw Alex wearing his pants, but decided it wasn't worth dealing with. After changing out of his day clothes, he awkwardly crawled into bed next to Dean.  
Alex watched. "You know, in the show, I got the feeling you guys didn't sleep a lot." 

"Shut up and go to bed," Dean grumbled, rolling over. He buried his face in the pillow.

Sam slid under the covers. "Alex. Go turn off the light." Alex obeyed, flicking off the switch and launching herself into the bed as fast as she could. 

"Night," she mumbled. 

"Yeah. It's easier to sleep if you don't think about what's happened in these beds before," Dean advised. 

"Gross." Alex wrinkled her nose. "I didn't need to think about that, thank you very much." She tossed a pillow at him for emphasis. She heard it hit something on the other bed, and Dean let out a small noise of surprise, telling Alex she had hit her mark. 

"You're welcome." Dean tossed the pillow back, barely grazing Alex's head. 

"Shut up and go to sleep," Sam grumbled. They obliged. 

 

 **A** lex woke up. She groggily looked around, only to snap open her eyes to find the other bed empty. She jumped out of bed. The motel room was empty, and there was no sign of a note to tell Alex what was going on. She quickly got dressed and looked out the motel door. There was no sign of the Impala, but, going back inside, Alex noted their bags were still on the floor where they had left them. She sat back down in one of the chairs, confused and slightly angry. After a few seconds she moved to one of the beds and flicked the tv on, finding some stupid cartoon to watch. 

A few minutes later the motel door opened and Sam and Dean stepped back in. "Where the hell were you?" Alex asked. 

"Language," Dean warned. "You're too young to swear." He took of his denim jacket and tossed onto the bed. 

"I'm seventeen," Alex shot back. "I thought you left me. So shut up and answer the question." 

"We just went out to get breakfast," Sam explained curtly. He tossed Alex a bag. "We brought you something." 

"Thanks," Alex grumbled, appeased by their offering of food. "Next time, leave a note." Neither Sam or Dean answered, leaving Alex unsure if they heard her or not. 

 

The morning passed quickly, with everyone just milling around the motel room. Sam called Travis, letting him know where they were, and continued his research. Around noon, Dean took them out to lunch, where Dean, like always, got the biggest hamburger he could, leaving Sam and Alex to watch him in disgust. 

"You know, I think I'd rather watch that Montgomery fellow eat," Alex pointed out, no longer hungry. Dean shot her a pointed glance, and opened his mouth to show her what was inside. Alex looked away. "Gross." 

"Seriously, Dean?" Sam glanced around. "You know that's disgusting, right?" 

Dean smirked.

 

 **A** fter lunch, they returned to the motel room. Alex followed them in, but they stopped in the doorway. "Travis," she heard Dean say. "See, Sam. Told you we should have hid the beer." 

Alex tried to see around them, but couldn't. She heard unfamiliar footsteps, and both Sam and Dean stepped forward. 

"Smartass," she heard a man say. "Get over here." 

Alex sidestepped to see a short, balding man pull Dean into a hug. Alex noted his right hand was in a cast.

"Ah, good to see you," the man called Travis laughed. 

"You too." Dean smiled. He stepped back. 

"Good to see you." Travis pulled Sam into a hug. 

Sam hugged him back, their height difference making it seem awkward. "You too, Travis." 

"Man, you got tall, kid." Travis studied Sam. Both he and Sam let out a laugh. "How long has it been?" 

"Ah, got to be ten years," Sam replied. 

"You still a, oh, what was it, a mathlete?"

Sam snorted, looking only slightly embarrassed. "No." 

"Yep. Sure is," Dean said at the same time.

Alex smiled, which quickly dissipated when Travis seemed to notice her for the first time. 

"Who's this?" he asked the two men. "She one of yours?" 

"Ah, no," Dean replied quickly. "Travis, this is Alex." 

"Hey, Alex." Travis stretched out a hand. 

Alex took it. "Travis." She acknowledge him with a nod before stepping back. 

"You a hunter?" 

"Dunno," Alex said cautiously. "I guess." 

Travis looked quizzically at the Winchesters, who shrugged. "Okay." He turned his attention away from Alex. "Well, it's been too long, boys. John would be damn proud of you. Sticking together like this." 

"Yeah, yeah. We're as thick as thieves," Dean smiled, casting a glance at Sam, who stood rigidly at those words. "Nothing more important than family." Sam looked slightly angry, but Travis didn't seem to pick up on the hidden meaning. 

He turned and walked towards the table in the corner. "Sorry I'm late for the dance," he said, sitting down in a chair. Dean sat down across from him. "Thanks for helping out. I'm a little, shorthanded." He motioned to the cast on his arm.

All three let out a small laugh at the joke. Sam took a seat on the bed next to Dean. Alex sat down in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, watching the three. 

"So, you track down Montgomery?" Travis continued. 

"Yeah we found him in his home," Sam explained. 

"And . . ?" Travis asked.

"Well, he had a hell of the case of the munchies, topped off with a burger he forgot to cook," Dean finished. 

"That's him alright." Travis nodded quietly. 

"What's him?" Dean asked, leaning closer. 

"Boys, we got a rougarou on our hands," Travis explained in a hushed voice. 

"A rougarou?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam. "Is that made up?" He looked back at Alex, and then to Travis. "'Cause that sounds made up." 

"Oh." Alex let out a breath. "That makes sense. Rougarou. Right." 

"You've heard of them?" Dean turned back to Alex. 

"Yeah. Nasty things. Right, Travis?" 

"Yeah. Nasty alright. Rotten teeth, wormy skin, the works." 

"Well, that ain't that guy. He was wearing a cellphone on his belt," Dean pointed out. 

"Just wait," Alex snorted. "He'll get ugly soon enough." 

"They start out human, for all intents and purposes," Travis added. 

"So what? They go through some sort of, metamorphosis?" Sam asked. 

"Yup. Like a maggot turning into a bull fly. But most of all, they're hungry." 

"Hungry for what?" Dean leaned in. 

"At first, everything. But then," he paused dramatically, "for long pig." 

Alex nodded understandingly, and Sam let out a loud breath as he realized what Travis meant. 

Dean looked confused. "Long pig?" 

"Human flesh," Alex explained. 

Dean nodded slowly. "Okay. And that is my word of the day." Alex quiet laugh at the joke. 

"Hunger grows in till they can't fight it. Till they got to take themselves a big, juicy, chomp, and then it happens." His voice slowly lowered into a whisper. 

"Then what happens?" Sam asked quietly. 

"They transform completely and fast. One bites all it takes. Eyes, teeth, skin, all turns. They feed once, and they're a monster forever. And our man Jack's headed there on a bullet train." 

"Well how'd you find this guy if he's a walking, talking human?" Dean asked after a second's pause. 

"Let's just say it runs in the family." 

"You mean . . ." Sam trailed off. 

"Killed his daddy back in '78. Son of a bitch mangled eight bodies before I put him down. Guy used to be a dentist. Cadillac, trophy wife. Little did I know, pregnant trophy wife. She put the boy in the system. By the time I found out, he was gone, lost in the system." 

Sam looked slightly unconvinced. "You mean to tell me you couldn't find someone?" 

Travis let out a small sigh. "I'm not sure I wanted to. The thought of hunting down some poor kid, I don't think I'd have the heart. No. I wanted to wait, make damn sure I had the right man. Apparently I do." He quickly finished off his beer. 

Alex watched the old hunter warily. "Apparently," she echoed. 

"You ever hunted one of these?" Travis asked her, taking her by surprise. 

"No, not really. But I've heard a story similar to this," she partially lied. 

"So how do we kill one of these?" Dean asked. 

"Fire," Alex replied matter-of-factly. "Like Wendigos." She paused. "Actually, fun fact, rougarous and wendigos are one in the same. Wendigos are like . . ." she searched for a comparison, "an evolved form of rougarous." She knew it was true; Bobby had told her. A rougarou was the early stage; only after about a hundred years, once the creature had truly lost all of its humanity, was it considered a wendigo. It wasn't something well-known amongst hunters, but it was true nevertheless. 

"I thought knowing useless facts was Sammy's job," Dean muttered good-naturedly. 

Both Sam and Alex looked slightly offended. "It's not a useless fact," Alex protested. "And I spend four months with Bobby. And he's the king of research and useless facts." 

"Touché." Dean turned back to Travis. "So what do we need to do?" 

"I've got supplies back at my place." Travis stood up. "I'll be back is fifteen or so minutes." With that he left. Sam walked over to his bag and pulled out his laptop and sat back down at the table. 

"So, now what?" Alex asked. 

"We wait until Travis gets back." Dean walked over the fridge. "Thirsty?" 

"No thanks. I don't like beer." 

Dean looked back over at her and frowned. "I wasn't going to give you beer," he pointed out. "Aren't you too young to drink?" 

Alex sat up and raised an eyebrow. "Are we really going to talk about all illegal things we've done?" she countered. 

"Touché," Dean said again and took a beer for himself. "And I see Sammy's already got the laptop out." 

He sat down on the bed next to Alex and flipped on the tv, scanning through the channels. He stopped at a channel where _Zombie Land_ was playing. Alex rolled her eyes. "You know, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's zombies. Not kidding. I just can't. Monsters, vampires, werewolves, anything else. But zombies scare the shit out of me." 

"Language," Dean warned her sharply, but obligingly changed the channel. "You're a wimp." 

"Shut up." Alex pulled herself into a sitting position. "But I'm serious. I can't do anything zombies." 

"Well, good thing zombies aren't real," Dean grunted. Alex didn't look convinced, but said nothing. Dean noticed. "Don't worry," he said quietly. "I'll take care of you." 

He half expected Alex to shoot off some angry comment, but she didn't. She just nodded. "Thanks." 

"No problem." He returned his attention to the tv. Sam's phone rang, and he answered it. A few seconds later he hung up, closed his laptop, and walked over to the counter. Alex smelled the familiar smell of hot coffee drift through the small motel room. 

"Didn't know you liked coffee, Sammy," Alex called. 

"It's not bad. But it's not for me. Travis just called. Said he be here in a few minutes. And to have some coffee ready." With that, Sam left the room. Alex and Dean exchanged glances, but said nothing.

 

 **T** en minutes later Travis returned, carrying a mug and a heavy-looking bag. "Hey Travis." Dean took the bag from him and placed it on the table. Travis walked over the the counter and filled up his mug with coffee. Alex watched Travis and Dean as they lay out the parts they would need. 

"Where's Sam?" Travis asked.

"Dunno." Alex shrugged. "How does this work?" She asked Dean, taking a seat next to him. 

"Propane tank. Pipes." Dean pointed out the simple components. "Hold a lighter in front of it and you've got yourself a barba-rou." 

Alex rolled her eyes at Dean's bad joke. She quietly watched them assemble everything.

"So, fire, huh?" Dean asked Travis, heating up a section of pipe. 

"The only way I've found to kill these bastards; deep fry 'em." 

"Well that's going to be," Dean paused, searching for a good word, "horrible. Is that what you did to Jack's dad?" 

"Uh-huh." Travis didn't look up. 

The door opened and Sam walked in, holding several pieces of paper. "Heya Sammy," Alex acknowledge him. 

"Not wasting any time, you two?" Sam ignored Alex. 

"None to waste." Travis looked up. "That guy hulks out, we won't be finding bodies, just remains."

"What if he doesn't hulk out?" Sam sat down on the bed next to Alex. She pulled her legs up to her chest to give him room. "I did a little homework. Uh, I looked up some lore on rougarous." He explained. 

"What? My thirty years of experience not good enough for you?" Travis asked hotly. He took a sip of his coffee. 

"What? No. No." Sam quickly backtracked. "I-I just wanted to be prepared. I mean, not that you don't . . ." 

"Sam loves research," Dean cut in, saving his little brother from finishing his response. "He does. He keeps it under his mattress right next to his KY. Its a sickness." 

Alex blushed faintly at Dean's words, even though it had nothing to do with her. Sam, however, remained unfazed. Travis let out a small chuckle. 

Dean glanced at his brother. "It is," he added. 

"Look, everything you said checked out, of course," Sam continued. "But, uh, I found a couple interesting stories about people who have this rougarou gene, or whatever. See, they start to turn, but never take that final step." 

"Really?" Dean looked up, interested. 

"See, if they don't eat human flesh, they don't fully transform," Sam explained. 

"So what? Stay vegan, stay human?" 

"Basically. Or in this case, eat a lot of raw meat, just not . . ." 

"Long pig," Dean finished. He smiled, slightly proud that he remembered the term. 

"Right." Sam nodded. 

Travis, who at his point had been watching them silently, stepped in. 

"Good on you for the due diligence, Sam. But those are just fairy tales." He stood up, picking up his mug. Walking over to the counter, he poured himself a second cup. "Fact is, every rougarou I've saw or heard of took that bite." 

"Okay, but that doesn't mean Jack will." Sam stood up. 

Dean put down the pipes and stood up as well. 

"So what do we do? Sit and hope and wait for a body count?" Travis turned to face the two hunters. Alex remained quiet on the bed, watching carefully. Dean picked up the papers Sam had brought in, studying them closely.

"No. We talk to him." Sam spoke like it was obvious. "Explain what's happening. This way he can fight it." 

"Fight it?" Travis let out a laugh. "Are you kidding me? You ever been really, really hungry?" Dean looked up from the papers. "I mean, haven't eaten in days, hungry?" 

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"Yeah, right then. So somebody slaps a big, juicy steak in front of you, you walking away?" 

Alex shook her head no, and Dean turned to look at Sam, his face clearly conveying his answer. 

"That's what we are to him, now. Meat on legs. I'm sorry. I'm sure he's a stand-up guy, but it's pure, base instinct. Everything in nature's got to eat. You think you can stop himself 'cause he's nice?" 

"I don't know." Sam grew serious. "But we're not going to kill him until he does something to get killed for." His voice shook with an emotion too strong to have come from someone who couldn't related with the man's position. 

Alex picked up on the double meaning behind his words, and so did Dean. He glanced sharply at Dean. Sam took several deep breathes before walking out of the room. Travis cast a puzzled look over towards Alex and Dean. Alex shrugged innocently. "What's wrong with your brother?" 

"Don't get me started." Dean tried to turn it into a joke. He turned away, face dark. He picked up his beer and took a long swig. 

When Sam didn't come back in, Travis looked worried. "Something wrong between you two?" 

Dean shook his head wearily. "It's complicated." 

The door opened, and Sam stepped back in. "Come on, Dean." 

Dean said nothing, but raised an eyebrow as a question.

"We're going to go talk to Jack," Sam explained curtly, then closed the door, leaving no room for protests. 

"You can't be serious." Travis looked at Dean. "It ain't gonna do anything."

"Maybe, but Sam's got a point." Dean stood up. "It's worth a shot." He grabbed the keys out of his pocket and ran towards the door. 

Alex watched him go before remembering she wasn't alone. She looked up to see Travis staring at her. Uncomfortable, she shook her head and stood up, hurrying out the door. She walked down to the Impala to see Dean getting into the front seat. Breaking into a run, she caught up to the car before it pulled out and jumped into the backseat. 

"What do you want?" Sam asked crossly, not hesitant to show his frustration. 

"I'm not staying in a motel room with a stranger," Alex protested. 

"He's not a stranger. He's Travis. I've known him since I was a kid," Sam shot back. 

"Yeah. And you haven't seen him in ten years. People change, Sam. You should know that." She mumbled that last part under her breath. If Sam heard, he didn't acknowledge it. "I don't know him. I don't trust him. Simple as that." 

Neither Sam or Dean responded, telling Alex she had won. "Just stay out of our way," was all Sam grumbled. Alex shrugged, content with the suggestion. 

 

 **T** hey drove off towards Jack's house. Finally Dean broke the silence. "All right. So we're gonna have a little chat with this guy, which, you, know, I'm down, but I just want to know, if push comes, you're gonna shove." He looked over at Sam, who was staring out the window, his face stone serious. 

Sam turned to look at his brother. "Meaning?"

"Well, odds are we're gonna have to burn this guy alive," Dean continued. 

"This guy has a name and a wife," Sam said slowly. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, who we're probably gonna make a widow, okay? I mean, you heard Travis. He's gonna turn. They always turn." 

"Well, maybe he won't." Sam countered, frustration creeping into his voice. "Maybe he can fight it off." 

"And maybe he can't. That's all I'm saying." Dean backed off. 

"All right. We'll just have to see then." Sam looked away from Dean. 

"This is what I mean, Sam. You sure you're emotions aren't getting in the way?" Dean added. 

Sam looked confused. "What are you talking about?" 

"You know, nice, dude, but he's got something evil inside. Something in his blood. Maybe you can relate?" Alex flinched at Dean's harshness. 

Anger flooded Sam's face. "Stop the car." 

"What?"

"Stop the car or I will," Sam repeated, much louder this time. Dean obliged, and pulled the Impala off onto the dirt shoulder of the road. As the car slowed to a halt, Sam jumped out, slamming the door. Dean pulled the keys out of the ignition and got out as well. Alex stayed put, watching with wide eyes. 

Sam started yelling, and Alex slid down in the seat, not wanting to see them fight. "You want to know why I've been lying to you, Dean? Because of crap like this!" 

"Like what?"

"The way you talk to me, the way you look at me like I'm a freak!" Sam stormed over to a tree.

"I do not!" Dean yelled after him. 

Sam ignored him. "You know, or even worse, like I'm an idiot!" He spun around and stalked up to his brother, getting into his face. "Like I don't know the different between right and wrong!" He walked away several steps, hands on his hips. Eventually he turned around. Dean's gaze fell to the ground, and Sam let out an angry huff. "What?" 

Alex almost missed Dean's quiet response. "Do you know the difference Sam?" His voice grew louder. "I mean, you've been kind of strolling down a dark road lately."

"You have no idea what I'm going through. None." 

"Than enlighten me!" 

"I've got demon blood in me, Dean." Sam threw his hands up in the air. "This disease pumping through my veins, and I can't ever rip it out or scrub it clean. I'm a whole new level of freak! And I'm just trying to take this-this curse . . . and make something good out of it. Because I have to." He dropped his gaze to the ground.

After a few seconds, Dean responded, voice low. Alex strained her ears to hear. "Let's just go talk to the guy." Sam must have said something, because Dean added, "I mean Jack, okay?" 

When Sam let out a small nod, Dean got into the front seat. Alex stared at the back of his head, not knowing how Dean could take Sam's anger. Dean put the keys in the car's ignition and started it up. Sam followed begrudgingly. Alex sunk lower into the seat, trying to ignore the thick tension that sparked through the air. 

 

 **T** he rest of the drive was completely silent, but Alex could tell they were still angry. Dean would brake harshly, and Sam stared out the side window. Finally, they pulled up next to the back of Jack Montgomery's house. Taking a deep breath, Dean got out. Alex started to follow, getting out on Sam's side, but was stopped by Sam. "Don't," he growled, pinning Alex against the car with one arm. Alex nodded meekly. There was no way she was standing up to the giant of a man. She watched them walk away, and she begrudgingly leaned against the hood, running a hand through her long blonde hair. 

 

 **T** here she waited. A few people walked or drove by, staring. Alex knew they weren't looking at her; she was just a plain girl, wearing clothes that weren't even her size, not caring in the least about her appearance. No, they were staring at the beautiful car she was sitting on. The beautiful, black, all American muscle car. Not her. And if either Sam or Dean were here, Alex knew she would be completely invisible, sitting on a amazing car next to two handsome men. No one would give her a second glance.

Alex let out a frustrated sigh, pushing away the thoughts. She'd been here for less then two minutes, and she was bored already. So she did what she always did when she was bored. She started to talk. "Hey, Castiel. How's it going?" she said quietly. "No need to show up. You're busy, I've only got a few minutes, I understand. No need to listen either, I suppose." She paused. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay. It must be pretty rough up in heaven, trying to stop the seals from breaking and all. I hope you haven't lost too many brothers this week." She paused again. "Or sisters. Are there female angels in heaven? I thought it was just you guy angels. Hm." She trailed off, lost in her own internal thought. 

 

 **T** he sound of a loud, "Now!" and the sound of approaching footsteps let Alex know the Winchesters were back. 

She looked up. "How'd he take it?" she asked. 

Sam glared at her, and got into the car. 

"Not well," Dean answered for him. "Get in." 

Alex rolled her eyes, but got off the hood and into the backseat. "So, now what? We gonna torch him, or we gonna wait?" 

" _You_ are going back to the motel," Sam spoke for both him and Dean. 

"What?" Alex protested against her better judgement. "No way! Why?" 

"Because I said so," Sam said frustratedly. 

"No way," Alex repeated angrily. "You want me to do something, you better give me a damn good reason." She heard Dean open his mouth to remind her to watch her language, but he thought better of it and said nothing. He just started the car and pulled away from the house.

"Fine." Sam turned in his seat so he could look at Alex. "You want the truth? You can't come with because I don't trust you." 

Alex let out a huff. "Likewise." 

"He's right," Dean put in. "If you're gonna hunt with us, we need to trust you with our lives. And right now, you don't have that trust." 

Alex snorted. "I don't exactly trust you either," she said to Sam. "You're the one trying to kill me." Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Alex continued. "But I'd still put my life in your hands. Heck, I've been traveling with two strange men. If that doesn't scream trust, I don't know what does." 

"Not one of your better judgement calls." Dean glanced back at her. 

"If it makes you feel any better, there's only four people in this universe I trust. You, Bobby, Sammy, I suppose, and me." Alex paused. "Well, and Cas. I trust Cas."

Dean let out a small laugh. "You trust that angel?" 

"Yeah." Alex crossed her arms. "More than I trust Sam." 

This made Sam angry, as he turned around to face Alex once more. "You know why I don't trust you?" he exploded, "Because I can't. You've shown me no reason to give you even a shred of my trust. You come in saying you know everything about us, but, you know what? I think you're lying." He took a deep breath. "Until you give me a single reason to trust you, you can't hunt." 

Alex shrank back uncomfortably in her seat, taken aback by Sam's outburst. "I do know everything about you," she said quietly. 

"Prove it." Sam was still angry, although the most of it had ebbed. 

"Prove it? Prove it how? I can't tell you anything about your future, because you won't believe me. And frankly, it's just a river of crap." 

"Fine. Tell me about my past," Sam challenged. 

"But then you're just going to call me a stalker," Alex complained. She sighed. "Fine then. Be that way. I'll just prove myself once again." She looked thoughtful. "Let's see. Past. Woman in White. Wendigo. Azazel. John cut him a deal to save Dean." She let out a smile, growing more confident. "Trickster. He's pretty sweet. One of my more favorite demi-gods." She pulled another thoughtful face. "Oh yeah. Mystery spot. Tuesday. Heat of the moment. Pig in a poke. Had enough?" 

Sam looked away. "Fine. I get it. But you're still not coming." 

"What?" Alex looked pained. "Dean." 

"Sorry, girl. Bobby ain't here to defend you," Dean said over his shoulder. "And, by the way, the Trickster is definitely not 'pretty sweet'." 

"Eh," Alex defended him. "He grows on you." She paused, then smirked. "Would it be bad if I said I trusted him as well?" 

"Very," Dean growled. "Here we are." He pulled the Impala into the motel parking lot. "Get out." 

"But what if Travis is still there?" Alex protested. 

"Then you can sit outside," Sam growled. 

Alex didn't argue, but got out. Dean handed her the keys to the room and his cellphone before driving away. Alex wandered down to their room and opened the door. "You're still here?" She asked, staring at Travis. 

"Yeah." The older hunter looked up from the table were he had been working on a propane torch. "What are you doing here?" 

"Sam and Dean send me back here," Alex grumbled. "You gonna leave?" She said pointedly. 

"No." Travis didn't look up. Alex uncomfortably sat on the bed as far away from the hunter as possible. She flicked on the tv, trying to ignore him. "I get the feeling you're uncomfortable," Travis acknowledged. 

"Don't know you, can't trust you," Alex said. 

"Very good point." Travis nodded. "But you can trust me." 

Alex raised an eyebrow, but didn't protest. She turned back to the tv. Dean's phone rang. Alex stared at it. The caller ID said Bobby.

"You gonna answer it?" Travis asked. 

Alex did so. "Uh, hello?" 

"Dean?" Bobby's gruff voice came over the phone. 

"No, uh, Alex." 

"Alex? Where's Dean?" 

"He and Sam are out stalking some poor guy," Alex said crossly, still miffed that Sam and Dean had stood her up like that. 

"You guy's found a case?" 

"Yeah. Rougarou. Some hunter called Travis called us in," Alex explained. Travis shot her a look, but Alex ignored him. 

"Travis?" 

"That's what I said." 

"Where's he at?" 

"Five feet away from me?" Alex estimated.

"Let me talk to him," Bobby demanded. Alex looked slightly confused, but did as he asked. "It's for you." She handed the phone to Travis. 

He took it. "Y'ello." Pause. "Yeah." Another, much longer pause. Travis tried to speak, but was cut off. Finally he spoke. "I wouldn't dream of it." Pause. "Uh-hm. Promise." He hung up and tossed the phone back to Alex. 

She caught it. "Well?" 

"None of your damn business," Travis answered bluntly. 

Alex nodded understandingly. "He's like an overprotective father," she admitted. 

"Uh-huh." Travis began packing up his things. "I'll be off then." 

"Just like that?" Alex snorted. 

"Why, do you want me to stay?" The old man turned to look at her.

"Not really," she admitted, shifting so her weight rested on her other leg. 

Travis grunted, slung his bag across his shoulder, grabbed a last cup of coffee, and marched out the door, slamming it behind him. The phone rang again. 

"Bobby?" Alex answered. 

"He gone?" 

"Yeah. You tell him to get lost?" Alex joked. 

"Yes." Alex sighed at Bobby's bluntness. "How you doing, girl?" 

"I'm perfectly fine."

"No problem with Sam?" 

"No. Him and Dean had a falling out, though. Got out of the car and started yelling. But nothing about me. I don't think. Dean caught Sam exorcising demons with his mind," she explained. "And he's been hanging out with Ruby. Dean was pretty pissed. Sam looked like he wanted to kill me for a while, but I think now he believes me when I say I didn't tell on him." 

She ended, and the line was silent for a few seconds. 

"Bobby? You still there?" 

"Yeah, still here," Bobby slowly answered. Alex could tell he was taking the news pretty hard. She flinched. 

"Yeah, and if Sam or Dean tells you about this, please don't mention I told you. Act surprised. I'm trying to earn their trust, something I apparently don't have, so," she ended. 

Bobby sighed. "Fine. Deal." Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. "Well, I better get going. Call if you need anything." 

"Promise."

"And stay out of trouble." 

"Yes, dad," Alex said sarcastically. They said their good-byes, and hung up. Alex tossed the phone onto the bed next to her. She turned on the tv. 

 

 **A** round five thirty, Alex decided she was hungry. Picking up Dean's phone, she found Sam's number and pressed 'call'. It rang, and she heard the sound of someone answering. "Hello?" She heard the guarded voice of Sam. 

"Hey, Sam." 

"Alex," Sam acknowledged her. "What's up?" 

"Not much. Just sitting here. Alone. In the motel. Bored out of my mind. How about you? You still stalking Jack?" 

"It's not stalking," Sam protested, and Alex could swear she heard Dean snicker. "But yes, we're still staked out in front of his house. Nothing yet. Is Travis gone?" 

"Yeah. Bobby talked to him and scared him off. Which reminds me. Tell Dean Bobby called. He was asking for him. Dunno if he called you or not." 

"Yeah, no he didn't." Alex heard him turn to Dean. "Alex said Bobby called. He was asking for you." 

"What did he want?" Dean said faintly. 

"What did he want?" Sam repeated. 

"Dunno. Didn't say." Silence. "You guys coming back? I'm getting hungry." 

"Get your own food," Sam retorted. 

"I need money," Alex reminded him. She heard scuffling noises at the other end, and Dean's voice filled the line. 

"Look in my bag. Left pocket of a green jacket," he directed. 

Alex did so. "Five bucks?" she asked. 

"That'll be plenty." he promised. "You're not eating like a king, but it'll suffice." 

Alex let out a snort. "Fine. Thanks." 

"You okay by yourself?" 

"Of course." Alex rolled her eyes. "You sound like Bobby." 

Dean didn't respond. "See you later tonight." Then he hung up. 

Alex rolled her eyes again and pulled the jacket out of the bag. Slipping it on, she grabbed the key to the motel and walked out, making sure to lock the door behind her. She crossed the street and entered a McDonalds. After ordering her food, she sat down near the window where she could see the motel. 

 

 **A** fter 'dinner', if you could even call it that, Alex returned to the motel. She sulked around, bored out of her mind. She ended up watching tv. As the night wore on, she changed into Sam's sweatpants and one of Dean's shirts and crawled into bed, turning off the lights. The room softly glowed in the light of the tv as Alex continued to watch some marathon about nature's deadliest animals. At some point, she must have drifted off, because when she awoke, it was almost one in the morning. There was another loud knock, and Alex staggered out of bed and opened the door. "Hey," she yawned, letting Sam and Dean in. "You guys okay?" 

Sam didn't answer.

"Barely," Dean answered for them. He flicked on the lights. 

"Are you okay?" Alex noticed their cuts for the first time. 

"Yeah, I suppose." 

"He turn?" 

"Yeah," Sam mumbled. He sat down on the bed. Alex quickly retreated into the bedroom and grabbed a washcloth. She tossed on to Sam, who gratefully took it. "Thanks." 

"No problem. What happened?" 

"Well, Travis is dead," Dean said bluntly. 

Alex looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry. He went after Jack on his own?" 

Sam nodded, pressing the washcloth into his forehead. When he pulled it away, it was red. "Yeah. I guess so. By the time we got there, it was too late." 

Alex let out a wordless murmur of sadness. "Did you get rid of the body?" 

Dean shot her a glance. "Set the house of fire. That should cover our tracks enough to get out." He picked up his bag and set in on the table. 

"We're leaving?" Alex looked surprised, still very tired, knowing they must be as well. 

"Job's done, we get the hell out," Dean explained. He quickly packed all his things. 

"Aren't you guys tired?" 

Sam let out a huff of laughter. "It's hard to sleep after that." 

"I suppose so," Alex agreed quietly. She watched them gather their things. Dean went to check them out, while Alex helped Sam load up the car. 

 

 **T** he road was dark, and Alex nodded off to sleep at some point. When she awoke, the dawn light barely lit the road. The first thing she noticed was that the car was stopped. She could hear gentle sounds of breathing, and she slowly pulled herself into sitting position, careful not to disturb. Looking out the windows, she saw the Impala had been pulled off to the side of the road, hidden from view by several trees. She glanced at the clock. It read 6:26. She looked at the two people in the seats in front of her. As she watched, Dean's eyes flickered open. He glanced over at Alex. She let out a half smile. 

"You been up long?" he asked quietly. 

Alex shook her head. "No. Less then a minute," she whispered back. Dean let out a grunt and closed his eyes again. Alex let out a yawn and leaned her head back against the backseat. 

She opened her eyes when she heard the engine purr to life. Surprise flickered across her face when she saw the clock now read 6:55. Dean pulled the car out of the woods and back onto the road. 

"How'd you sleep?" Sam didn't look back at Alex. 

"Fine." Alex stifled a yawn. "You?" 

"Fine." Sam ran his fingers through his long hair. The conversation died.

 

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**A** t 1:46, they pulled into the Singer Salvage Yard. They knocked on the door. Bobby answered, and let them in. "You guys okay?" he asked, looking at their faces. 

Both Dean and Sam nodded, and made their way into the study. 

"Are you sure?" Bobby persisted. "Alex said . . . " 

"Μην τους πεις," Alex interrupted. Bobby turned to look at her, as well as Sam and Dean. "Παρακαλό,"she added. She knew neither Sam or Dean spoke Greek, but both she and Bobby knew it well. It was one of the many things she had learned over those four months. 

_Don't tell them. Please._ Her message was received by the older hunter. "Alex said you guys were hunting a rougarou," he said instead. "Those are nasty creatures." 

"Yeah, so I heard," Dean replied dryly. Sam looked from Alex to Bobby, trying to understand what had passed between them. 

"I hope Travis didn't cause to much trouble." Bobby sat down at his desk, and Alex took up her spot by the window. 

"Travis is dead," Dean said bluntly. 

"Dead?" 

"Yeah. Dead. Jack got him before we got there."

Bobby looked over at her. Alex shook her head. "I had no idea," she admitted. Seeing Bobby's face she added, "Seriously. I didn't know."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time you decided not to tell us," Sam shot back.

Alex let out an exasperated sigh. "I've told you guys before. There's going to be times where no matter how much I want to, I can't tell you. People are going to die, and you are going to hate me, but I'm only doing what's right. I'll tell you what I can. Nothing more." 

More silence. Alex stood up and walked over the fridge. "Thirsty?" She pulled out three beers and distributed them out. Then she took a coke for herself. 

 

 **T** he night came quickly. Alex made her way up the worn, familiar stairs and laid down on her bed. Before she knew it, she was asleep.


	7. Yellow Fever

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**S** he woke to the smell of bacon. Cold sunlight filtered through the window, unlike the warm light that accompanied the summer. Alex stretched and got up. She silently made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen to see Bobby standing near the stove. "Morning," she yawned. 

"Morning to you too." Bobby motioned to a plate next to him. "Help yourself." 

Alex did so. "Where's Sam and Dean?" 

"They're already gone." 

"Gone?" Alex looked up sharply. 

"Yup. Got up before I did, hightailed it out of here," Bobby explained. 

"Great," Alex muttered. She sat down at the kitchen table and nibbled on the fried meat. "I suppose they wanted to get away before I woke up." 

"I'm sure they had their reasons." Bobby neither confirmed nor denied her statement, but Alex was pretty sure she was right. He looked over at her. "Can't really blame them for wanting to be on their own." 

"What does that mean?" Alex asked, slightly offended. 

"Not because of you," Bobby quickly backtracked. "They're just use to it being the two of them, you know?" 

"Fine," she sighed. "Guess I better make myself useful." She quickly wolfed down the bacon and put her plate in the barely-functioning dishwasher. Running upstairs, she got dressed in a clean pair of jeans, one of Dean's shirts, and one of his old jackets she had commandeered. Going back downstairs, she stopped by the kitchen. 

"You going out?" Bobby asked her. When Alex nodded, he continued. "Get some food while you're at it. Store's running low." Alex checked the fridge to confirm what he said. She made a mental note of what to buy. She turned to leave. "And get some beer," Bobby yelled over to her. 

"I'll see what I can do." She walked to the back door, grabbing the keys to her Chevelle out of the drawer. Stepping outside, Alex was immediately hit with a gust of cold air. She turned up the collar of the jacket and hurriedly made her way down the steps. She got in the car, checked the glove compartment to make sure there was a copy of some fake license Bobby had made for her, and drove out of the salvage yard. 

She reached town within five minutes, and parked the car in the grocery store parking lot. Baring the cold, she got out and quickly made her way into the grocery store. "Alex!" She had barely gotten three steps in before she heard her name. 

"Charlie." Alex let out a genuine smile. "How's it going?" 

Charlie Dayton, the owner of Charlie's Antiques and a Vietnam veteran, made his way over to her. "Good, good. It's good to see you again." He let out a crooked smile. 

"Yeah, you too." Alex had spent her first four months working for him at his store down the street, and had come to know him well. 

"When you didn't show up last week, I got worried," the old man continued. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. Something, something came up," she admitted. 

"I hope nothing too bad." Charlie let out a small frown. "How's Bobby doing?" He changed the subject. 

"He's doing very well. He hasn't gotten out much. Sent me down to get some food." 

"He hasn't been drinking much?" Charlie asked worriedly, lips pursed. Bobby had become known as the town's drunk, and many people were worried for Alex and her safety. 

"No. He's gotten a lot better. The past four months were really tough on him, but I think everything's turning around." 

"Good." The veteran nodded. "If you're not too busy, I would love it if you stopped by the store. I got a new shipment in a few days ago, and Braydon's been rather busy lately." Alex knew Braydon Dayton, Charlie's son. He had often stopped by the store. Tall and dark-haired, he was only five or so years older then Alex. 

She nodded. "Yeah, I can do that. Let me finish up here, and I'll meet you there, okay?"

Charlie agreed and ambled off. 

"Careful," Alex called. "It's a bit chilly." Charlie waved his hand to let her know he heard. 

Alex sighed, and continued on farther into the store. After gathering all the food she would need, she paid, packed it all into large paper bags, and made her way back out to the car. 

 

**October, 25th, 2008**

**I** t was four weeks later. Everyday was pretty much uneventful. She made several trips into town, spending many hours doing odd jobs around the block. One day, around mid-afternoon, the phone rang. "Get the phone!" Bobby yelled from the top floor. 

"Fine." Alex rolled her eyes. She picked it the landline. "Hello. Bobby's." 

"Alex?" Sam's voice came over the phone.

"Yup." Alex sat down on the desk. "How's it going?" 

"Uh, good. Is Bobby there?" 

"He's upstairs." Alex shrugged. "Is everything alright?" 

"I'm not sure." Sam answered the question slowly, and Alex leaned forward.

"Are you guys okay?" she asked worriedly. She covered the receiver with her hand. "Bobby?" she yelled. "It's Sam." 

"Hang on," Bobby yelled back. 

"Is something wrong?" Alex asked again. 

"Uh, yeah, I, I don't know," he stuttered. "Dean's been acting a little weird, that's all." 

"Hm." Alex grunted. "You guys working a case?" 

"Yeah." Sam seemed thankful for the change of subject. "Some guy, Frank O'Brian. Had a heart attack. Healthy man, completely out of the blue. Coroner couldn't find anything wrong." He let out a quiet laugh. "The Sheriff here's a little weird too. Complete germaphobe. Even made us take off our shoes before we entered his office." 

Alex paused, worried. She had a hunch, and a pretty good one at that. "This, uh, dead guy. He didn't happen to have, scratches, on his arm, did he?" 

"Well, yeah. Coroner said it was normal." A pause. "Dean's got something similar . . ." 

"And, Dean. He's been acting weird, you say? Like, scared of everything weird?" Alex asked. Bobby came down the stairs, pausing beside Alex. 

"Yeah. Exactly." 

Alex let out a breath. 

"Alex? What does that mean?" 

"Where are you guys?" Alex asked. 

"Rock Ridge, Colorado," Sam answered. 

"Rock Ridge, Colorado," Alex repeated to Bobby. "Got it. We'll get down there as soon as we can." 

"What's going on?" Both Sam and Bobby asked, almost simultaneously. 

"Dean's got 'ghost sickness'. Like the Sheriff. And Frank O'Brian," Alex quickly explained. "From the moment of infection, the victim only has 48 hours, each hour getting increasingly scared of stuff, until they start hallucinating, and their heart literally gives out. Caused by a buruburu, usually goes after victims who all share a common trait. Got to go. Talk to you later. We'll be there sometime late tonight." Alex hung up. "Get your stuff," she instructed Bobby. "We're leaving." The phone rang again, but Alex didn't answer. Bobby reached for it, but Alex stopped him. "I'll call him in the car. We need to get going." She tossed him the keys. "Let's go." 

Bobby complied, and hurriedly packed some spare clothes before heading out the door. Alex grabbed her cellphone and her bag of clothes before following him out. "Rock Ridge, you said?" 

"Yeah." Alex flipped open her phone. She dialed a number, and brought it up to her ear. After a few seconds, the other line picked up. 

"Alex?" 

"Yeah. Sorry about that. We're on our way." Alex threw her bag in the back seat of Bobby's car before getting in the passenger seat.

"It's fine." There was some noise on the other side, and Alex heard Dean's voice as Bobby pulled the car out into the street.

"Hey. I'm not going to die, right? I don't want to die." He sounded scared. 

"Of course not," Alex assured him. "You're going to be fine." 

"Are you sure?" Dean persisted. 

"Yes. You've still got twenty-four hours. I need to talk to Sam, okay?" Alex heard Sam roughly take the cell phone away from him. 

"Anything we can do?" 

"Yeah, yeah. Let me think. There's a mill. Lumber mill. It's important. Have a look around, okay?" 

"Okay. Talk to you later." Sam hung up. 

"Yeah," Alex nodded, hanging up as well. 

"A buruburu, you say?" Bobby glanced over at her. 

"Yeah. Japanese, right?" Alex nodded. 

"Yeah. So you know what's going on."

"Uh-huh." Alex rested her elbow on the armrest. "I loved this episode; I've been waiting for this to happen a while now." She rested her forehead against the window, and added with a sigh, "Wish I was there."

Bobby just grunted. "Grab my bag." As Alex complied, he added, "On top. There's a book. Written in Japanese. Should be some help." 

"Yeah. To you, maybe." Alex opened it, frowning. "Personally, I can't read it." 

"Now's as a good a time to learn as any." Bobby told her. 

Alex rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. "I can't pick up a language within a couple hours! I'm not you, Bobby." 

"Just try." 

 

 **"I** give up." Alex set down the book several hours later. "This isn't possible." She set it down on the dashboard. "If you want me to read this, I need it in a different language." 

Bobby turned the car into a small town. "We'll stop here for the night," he informed her. "We're only an hour out, and Dean's still got a full day. We'll head out early tomorrow." 

Alex shrugged. "Sure. If that's what you think is best." 

Bobby nodded his head pulled into a hotel. He quickly checked them in and led Alex up to their room. She quickly changed into suitable night clothes, lay down in a bed, and flicked on the tv. A few hours later she was asleep. 

 

 **A** lex's phone rang. Her eyes snapped open, looking for the source of the noise in the dim light. Bobby let out a grumble and flicked on the lamp. The phone rang again, and Alex reached for the mobile device. "'Yello," she answered it. 

"Where's Dean?" 

"What?" Alex laid down on the bed, eyes rolling back in her head. 

"Dean took off. I thought he went back to the motel, but he isn't here." Sam sounded genuinely scared. 

Alex yawned again and looked at the clock. 2:08 am. "He's out running," she said tiredly, stifling yet another yawn. "He's being chased by a, uh, a Yorkie. He'll be back soon. Me and Bobby are a few hours out. We'll be there in the morning." She let out a huff. "You know its only two in the morning, right?" 

"Yeah." Sam didn't seem to understand the importance. "So?" 

"So?" Alex repeated. 

Bobby shushed her. "Some of us are trying to sleep." 

Alex lowered her voice. "I was asleep, Sam," she hissed. 

"I'm sorry, but this is important." 

"Dean's going to live. Otherwise we wouldn't have stopped for the night." 

"And what if you're wrong?" Sam asked. "What, what if you, I don't know, inadvertently changed something by landing here? Dean could _die_." 

" _Dean_ is not going to die." Alex hissed. "Good night." With that she hung up and turned off the light. Her phone rang again, and Alex shoved it under her pillow, effectively stifling the noise. 

 

 **A** lex woke to hear Bobby moving around the room. "'Bout time," he said when Alex rolled over. "It's time to go." 

Alex groaned and slid out of bed. "Too early," she mumbled, shuffling over to the bathroom. She glanced at the digital clock. 5:26. "Nope," she mumbled again. She quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt. 

 

**Rock Ridge, Colorado**

**T** hey quickly checked out of the hotel. "No breakfast?" Alex had asked. 

Bobby shook his head. "No time," was all he had said. 

Within the hour they arrived in Rock Ridge, Colorado. Bobby had called Sam, and they had arranged to meet at the lumber mill. By the time they got there, Sam was leaning up against the Impala. Bobby pulled his rusted car up behind Sam and got out. "Howdy, Sam." Bobby greeted the younger brother, getting out of his car. He circled around to stand by Sam.

"Hey, Bobby. Thanks for coming so quick." Sam acknowledged Alex with a nod. He sat down on the hood of the Impala, pulling his feet up to rest on the bumper.

"Where's Dean?" The young girl looked around. 

"Uh, home sick." 

"Oh. So have his hallucinations started yet?"

"Yeah. A few hours ago," Sam nodded. 

"And how we doing on time?" Bobby asked.

Sam looked thoughtful. "Well, we saw the coroner around eight a.m, Monday morning, so that puts us just under an hour." 

Alex nodded. "Good." 

Sam frowned. "That's cutting it close," he rebutted. He turned to Bobby. "What about you? You find anything?"

Bobby pulled out the Japanese book and handed it to Sam. "This, uh, encyclopedia of spirits dates back to the Edo period." He leaned against the car next to Sam, and Alex joined him. The metal was warm beneath her hands, and she ran one across the side.

Sam flipped through a few pages. "You can read Japanese?" 

In response, Bobby rattled of several Japanese words which may or may not have been a cohesive sentence. 

"Guess so." 

"Showoff," Alex mumbled. Bobby gave her a half-hearted nudge. 

"Anyways, this book lists a kind of ghost that sounds like our guy. It, uh, infects people with fear." 

"Buruburu?" Sam guessed. Bobby nodded. "Does it say how to kill it?" Sam looked over at Alex. 

"Same as usual," Bobby responded. "Burn it's remains." 

"Wonderful. Is . . . is there a Plan B?" Sam asked nervously. 

"Well, the Buruburu is born of fear. Hell, it is fear. And the lore says we can kill it with fear." 

"So we have to scare the ghost to death." Sam looked unconvinced. 

Alex nodded. "Basically." 

"And how are we going to do that?" Sam looked at Alex, expecting her to answer. 

"Well, if I remember correctly, the ghost, the tall, bald one. He was road-hauled, right?" When Sam nodded, she continued. "Then you guys road-hauled the ghost. It worked in the show." 

"Great." Sam didn't look convinced. "In the show." 

"It hasn't been wrong." Alex shrugged, not really sure what else to say. "And right now, we're out of options." 

Sam knew she was right. He nodded. "Then we should get started." He let out a breath. "How're we going to road-haul a ghost?" He muttered to himself. 

"Same way you road-haul a guy." She pulled out her phone. "You guys get started; I'm going to give Dean a call, tell him what's going on." Sam began to protest, but Alex cut him off. "You're more useful helping Bobby than I am. I know what I'm doing, and everything's going to be fine. But only if we get started now." 

Sam hesitated, but finally relented. "Okay. Let's go." He circled around to the Impala's trunk while Alex dialed Dean's number. 

"Dean?" 

"Who is it?" Dean sounded scared. 

"It's Alex." Alex sat down on the back of Bobby's rusted old car. "How are you doing?" 

"Okay. Just watching some tv." 

"Uh, okay. It scary?" 

"Yeah." 

"Better turn it off." Alex heard the faint click of the tv set. "Thanks. We've got a plan, so just hold on for a little while longer." 

"Why should I trust you?" Dean asked. "You could be setting them off so I'll die!" 

"Why would I let you die?" Alex scoffed at his irrationality. 

"You let me go to Hell!" 

"You came back. And now Cas is here. Dean, listen to me. I am _not_ going to let you die, you understand?" 

"Alex!" Alex turned at Sam voice. 

"Got to go. See you around." Then she hung up. Hurrying across the ground, she stopped beside Sam and Bobby. "Got a plan?" 

"Same as before," Sam said tensely, but Alex let it slide. She knew he was just worried for his brother's safety. "Okay. I'll go in there and lure him out. Then . . . how do we road-haul a ghost?" 

Alex shrugged. "I dunno. They, uh, you, you used a chain. Iron, maybe?" 

Bobby walked around to the back of his car. "Here. Iron chain, etched with spells." 

Alex shook her head. "You just keep that in the trunk?" 

"I got lots of things in my trunk."

"You're awesome." Sam let out a faint smile. "Okay. We'll hook the chain to the Impala. I'll go in and wrap it around him. Alex, with me." 

Alex held back the shock. "Uh, yeah. Sure." 

 

 **A** fter they grabbed their flashlights and shotguns, Sam led Alex into the mill. "This place is creepy," Alex muttered. They wandered around before walking into the room where Sam said they had seen Luther. Sam dragged the chain behind him. He laid it in the room, covering it with the sawdust on the floor. 

When Alex made a questioning noise, he explained. "We're going to lure Luther in here. Then we can wrap the chain around him and signal Bobby." 

"Hm. Okay." Alex let him finish, then followed him back out of the room. 

"Any luck?" Bobby's voice came over the walkie-talkie. 

"I don't know what's wrong, Bobby," Sam admitted, casting a glance at Alex. She shrugged. "Last time he came right at us. It's almost like he's, uh . . . like he's scared." He laid his shotgun down on the ground. Alex slowly did the same, not overly fond of losing her only source of protection.

"So now what?" 

"I guess we got to make him angry." Sam looked around. His eyes rested on several drawings hanging on and above a desk. "Hey Luther!" he yelled, walking over to it. He picked up a drawing and tore it apart. The machines around them suddenly turned on. Alex jumped. "Come on, Luther! Where the hell are you? What are you waiting for?" He dug through the desk, tearing up more pictures. 

Alex glanced behind, and froze. A tall, large man stood there. Square jaw, dark eyes, cuts covering his face. "Sam?" she asked very, very quietly. The man struck out, sending her flying. She hit the wall, slumping to the ground. She shook the dizziness away, struggling to her feet. Sam and the man were struggling. Alex stumbled over there, throwing herself around the man's waist. She pulled him off of Sam, and he turned on her. He threw a punch, hitting her square in the face. Large hands wrapped themselves around her throat. "Sam!" Alex yelled. 

In response, Sam grabbed the large chain he had hidden, wrapping it around Luther's neck. "Bobby!" he yelled. "Punch it!" 

The man froze, dropping Alex. Then he was yanked away. He slid out of the room as the chain pulled him away. Alex pulled herself up into a sitting position, breathing heavily. 

"Come on." Sam grabbed his shotgun and hurried out the door. Alex followed. 

 

 **O** utside, she saw the Impala several yards away, the metal chain dragging behind it. The man was nowhere to be seen. Bobby pulled the car back around. "Did it work?" Sam asked worriedly. 

Bobby nodded. "Seems like it." 

Sam grabbed his phone. He dialed a number. It rung for a while, and Sam looked over at Alex, worried. Then Dean picked up. Sam let out a grin of relief. "Thank God." 

 

 **S** am went to go pick up Dean, telling Bobby and Alex to wait there. Alex sat down on the hood of Bobby's rusted car, staring off into the distance. Bobby put the chain back into the trunk. She rubbed her jaw. "For a ghost, he sure hits hard," she muttered. 

She barely heard Bobby snigger.

 

 **T** en minutes later the Impala returned. Sam and Dean got out. Alex got off the car. "Hey Dean. You okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine." Dean shot her a small smile. Sam took a cooler out of the car, setting it on the ground. He pulled out three beers. He gave one to Sam, and offered one to Bobby, but he shook his head. Dean put it back. "So," Dean began, "you guys seriously road-hauled a ghost with a chain?" He cracked open his drink.

Sam nodded. "Iron chain etched in spell work." 

"Hmm. That's a new one." Dean took a sip of his beer. "And who exactly came up with this?" 

"Alex." Bobby looked over at her. "I already had the chain, but she's the one who came up with how to scare it to death." 

Alex shrugged. "I remembered it from the show," she admitted. 

"It was what he was most afraid of," Sam added. "It was pretty brutal, though." 

Alex nodded in agreement. 

"Well, on the upside, I'm still alive, so, uh, go team." Dean raised his beer. 

"Yeah. How are you feeling, by the way?" 

"Fine." 

"You sure, Dean? 'Cause this line of work can get awful scary." 

Dean glanced at Bobby. "I'm fine. You want to go hunting? I'll go hunting. I'll kill anything!" 

"Awww. He's adorable," Bobby chuckled, and Alex laughed as well. "I got to get out of here. You boys drive safe." He circled around to the driver's seat. "Alex. You staying or going?" 

Alex looked over at Sam and Dean. "Not sure. Depends." 

Sam glanced at Dean, who stared back. "I don't see why not." 

"Dean," Sam protested. 

"Hey. She saved my life, Sam. Maybe there's something to this . . . show thing after all." 

Sam squared his jaw. "Fine," he finally relented. 

Alex grinned. "Awesome." She grabbed her bag out of the backseat. They watched Bobby drive off. When he was out of sight, she circled around to put her bag in the Impala.

"So, uh, what'd you see?" Sam asked Dean quietly. 

"Besides a cop beating my ass?" 

"Seriously." 

Dean looked at Sam, taking another, long sip of beer. He suddenly looked away. "Howler monkeys," he finally said. "Whole room full of 'em. Those things creep the hell out of me." 

Sam let out an amused snort. "Right." 

"No. Just the usual stuff, Sammy. Nothing I couldn't handle." He turned to Alex. "You ready?" 

"Pretty much." She got in the backseat. Sam and Dean got in the front. Dean turned on the car, and cranked the music up. 

They drove away.


	8. It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester

**I** t was a few days later. They were camped out in a motel in southern Oklahoma, scouting for cases. It was early that morning when Alex woke. A low cramp spread through her stomach, and she flinched. _Oh shit._ She hurried to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She knew that pain. And it was that time of the month.

 

**T** here was a knock on the door. Alex was curled up on the bathroom floor, internally screaming. She managed to hiss out a, "What?"

It was Sam. "Are you okay?"

Alex grimaced as another spasm passed through her lower abdomen. "Peachy." _Please don't come in._

The door knob turned, and the door opened. "Oh my God. Are you okay?"

"Cramps!" Alex hissed, tears coming to her eyes. It felt like a werewolf was tearing apart her stomach.

"Dean!" Sam called his brother, kneeling beside the young girl. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Can you knock me out?" Alex curled up tighter.

Dean leaned against the doorframe, looking in. "What's wrong?" Worry tinged his voice.

"Cramps." Alex's eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Please! Kill me."

Alex had never seen Sam so concerned about her. "Hey hey hey. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, okay?"

Dean didn't seem to share in his brother's concern. "Push," he joked.

Alex glared up at him. "As soon as this is over, I will murder you in your sleep!" she hissed out.

Dean held up his hands defensively. "I see what they say about on their periods."

Alex tried to get to her feet, but fell over in exhaustion and pain. "I'll kill you later," she groaned, falling back onto the cold tile.

"Seriously. Is there anything I can do?" Sam shot his brother a glare before turning back to Alex.

"Apart from killing me? No. I'll be okay in an hour or two."

"C-Can I move you to the bed?"

"No!" Alex cried out. "I, please. I'll stay here."

"Oh. Okay." Sam stood up. "If you need anything, just call."

They left Alex alone on the floor.

 

**S** he was somewhat back on her feet the next day. That was when Sam spoke up. "Dean." He called his brother over. Alex didn't move off of the couch.

"What's up?" Dean made his way past her.

"Local man commits suicide by swallowing four razors." Sam read the title of an article.

Dean let out a low whistle. "Gross. But is it our type of thing?"

"The razors were in the Halloween candy that he had eaten," Sam added

"Oh. Okay." Alex opened her eyes, turning her head to face them. "Sounds kinda witchy."

Sam shrugged. "Sounds like it."

"So Pennsylvania. That's almost a day's drive." Dean quickly thought it out in his head. "Okay. Should we head out?"

"It's worth a shot," Sam nodded. "There's nothing around here."

"Okay. Let's go." Dean grabbed his bag that was laying on the floor. "Get up," he told Alex. "We're leaving."

Alex grumbled something under her breath, but complied.

"Hey, you wanted to come with," Dean pointed out as they walked towards the car. Sam went to check them out. "Which I still don't understand." He got in behind the wheel, and Alex slid into the backseat. He turned to face her. "Why would you want to get involved in all of this?"

Alex shrugged. "I kind of am involved in all of this. I know what's going to happen, Dean. Even if I wanted no part in this, how could I turn a blind eye?"

"Yeah, but all this is . . . it's crap. Why would you choose to do any of this?"

"I dunno. I mean, I can save people, Dean. I can stop them from dying. And I won't be able to live knowing I could have done something, but didn't. Yeah, I know this is going to be awful. But it's worth it."

Dean shook his head. "You can't save everyone, Alex. Believe me, I've tried."

"And I'm going to try too." Alex sighed, shifting slightly. "Because if I can save just one person, it'll be worth it."

Sam approached and got in the front seat, and the conversation died.

 

**October 30th, 2008**

**Pittson, Pennsylvania**

**T** hey arrived in Pittson, Pennsylvania, late that day. Dean brought dinner in, and Sam started looking in to the history of Luke Wallace, the deceased. The next day, Sam and Dean donned on their FBI suits and left to talk to Mrs. Wallace, leaving Alex by herself. She sighed, flipping on the tv. Then she sat down on the green couch, rubbing her head. She was developing a headache, and reached for her phone.

"Hello?" Dean answered.

"Hey. Do we have any aspirin in the car?"

"Not sure. Why?"

Alex shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. "I have a headache."

"I'll check," Dean promised. "If not, we'll pick up something on the way back."

"Thanks man."

He hung up, and Alex turned back to the tv, laying down. Before long, she was asleep.

 

**S** he woke when the door opened. Dean and Sam walked through. She got up, walking over. Sam took her spot on the couch, and Dean tossed her a pill bottle. She thanked him and grabbed some water out of the fridge. Sam pulled out his laptop, and Dean brushed past her to grab a beer. "Well, I'm going to go see what I can dig up on out vic here. See you in a few?"

"Yeah." Sam agreed distantly.

"Okay. And, uh, don't kill each other while I'm gone, kay?" He grabbed the keys and left.

Alex sat down on one of the beds, looking over at Sam. "What'd you learn?"

Sam said nothing, but motioned to a small, brown hex bag.

Alex frowned. "Witch, then. Wonderful."

"Yeah."

"Has the guy any enemies? Old grudges? Anything?"

"Nothing that his wife knew of."

"Hm. So now what?"

"Now you get to shut up and I'll do my research." With that, Sam tuned her out. Alex fell backwards onto the bed, waiting for the painkillers to set in.

 

**D** ean returned a few hours later. He tossed the keys onto the table by the door. He also unwrapped a piece of candy and popped it into his mouth.

"Really?" Sam noticed, and glanced up at his brother. "After that guy choked down all those razor blades?"

Dean shrugged. "It's Halloween, man."

Sam let out a huff of laughter. "Yeah, for us every day is Halloween."

Dean wandered over to his brother and sat down on the couch next to him. "Don't be a downer. Anything interesting?"

"Well, we're on a witch hunt, that's for sure. This isn't your typical hex bag."

Alex perked up, looking over at them. Sam had opened the bag and was pointing to the contents.

"No?" Dean looked over at his brother.

Sam picked up a strange, dried-up herb. "Goldenthread, an herb that's been extinct for two hundred years. And this," he picked up a circular metallic item, "is Celtic, and I don't mean some new age knock-off. It looks like the real deal, like six hundred years old real."

Dean grunted in acknowledgement and picked up another item. It was thin and long, and looked almost burned.

"And, um, is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby," Sam finished.

Dean quickly put the bone down. "Gross."

Sam picked it up. "Relax, man, it's like, at least a hundred years old."

"Oh yeah, like that makes it better?" Dean shook his head. "Witches man, they're so friggin' skeevy." He got up, walking over to the table.

"Yeah, well it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together. More juice than we've ever dealt with, that's for you. What about you? Dig up anything on the victim?"

Dean shook his head. "This Luke Wallace? He was so vanilla he makes vanilla seem spicy."

Alex chuckled, and Sam did the same, shaking his head.

"I can't find any reason why anyone would want this guy dead," Dean finished.

Sam shook his head and sighed.

"So now what?" Alex looked from brother to brother.

"Now we wait."

"For her to strike again?" Alex scoffed.

"Hey. I don't like this anymore than you do, but until we find some sort of connection or pattern, we're stuck."

 

**I** t was almost 1am when the call came in over the police scanner. A young girl had drowned in a bobbing-for-apple barrel. Which apparently had been full of boiling water. Sam and Dean immediately left. Alex went back to sleep.

 

**A** lex rolled over a a bright light. She sat up with a loud groan.

"Oh, you're up." Sam barely glanced up.

"How long have you been back?" Alex looked at the clock. 4am.

"Few hours." Sam went back to his book.

"I'm telling you," Dean spoke up, and Alex looked over to see him sitting at the table, computer in front of him. "These vics are squeaky clean. There is no reason for wicked bitch payback."

"What'd I miss?" Alex struggled up into a sitting position. "There's a second vic?"

"That girl who drowned. In the boiling apple barrel?"

"Right. You found a hex bag?"

"Sure did." Sam stood up, taking his book with him. "But, uh, I'm not so sure it's about payback."

"Wow." Dean looked at him sarcastically. "Insightful." He took a sip of his beer.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"It's okay, Sammy," Alex chirped up. "I'm listening."

Sam ignored her. "Maybe this witch isn't working the grudge, maybe she's working a spell. Check this out." He started scanning his book. "Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest." He looked up. "Celtic calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st." He handed Dean the book, who took it.

"Halloween," Dean reiterated.

"Oh thanks. I was confused for a second." Alex got out of bed, wandering over.

"So, what exactly are the, uh, blood sacrifices for?"

"Uh, if I'm right, the witch is summoning a demon, and not just any demon. Samhain."

Dean looked up at his brother. "Am I suppose to be impressed?" Alex grunted in agreement.

"Dean, Samhain is the damn origin of Halloween. The Celts believed that October 31st was the one night of the year when the veil was thinnest between the living and the dead, and it was Samhain's night. I mean, masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on the doorstep to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcized centuries ago."

"So even though Samhain took a trip downstairs, the tradition stuck."

"Exactly," Sam nodded, "only now instead of demons and blood orgies, Halloween is all about kids, candy, and costumes."

"Okay, so some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?"

"Dean, this is serious."

"I am serious!"

"We're talking heavyweight witchcraft here. This ritual can only be preformed every six hundred years."

"And let me guess," Alex sighed. "Tomorrow's the six hundred year anniversary?"

Sam nodded, and Dean sighed. "Naturally."

"Naturally," Alex echoed. She sat down in the chair opposite Dean.

Dean flipped through the books. "Well, it sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon."

"That's because he likes company," Sam explained. "One's he's raised, Samhain can do some raising on his own."

"Raising what, exactly?"

"Dark, evil crap. And lots of it. I mean, they follow him around like the friggin' Pied Piper."

"So we're talking ghosts?"

"Right."

"Zombies."

"Mm-hmm," Sam nodded.

Alex groaned. "I hate zombies."

"I know. Leprechauns?"

Sam shot him a loaded glance. "Dean--"

"Those little dudes are scary," Dean defended. "Little hands."

"Look. It just starts with ghosts and ghouls. This sucker keeps going. By night's end we are talking ever awful thing we have ever seen. Everything we fight, all in one place."

Dean grimaced. "It's going to be a slaughterhouse."

Sam agreed.

"So, how do we stop it?" Dean flipped through the book.

"Uh, not sure. Stop the three blood sacrifices, I guess." He glanced at Alex. "Any of this sound familiar?"

Alex shook her head. "Sorry. Not every case gets featured in the show. But, uh, if any of this starts to sound familiar, I'll let you know." They fell into silence.

 

**D** ean brought in breakfast the next morning, and then headed off. When Alex asked Sam where Dean was, she was told he was staked out at the Wallace's.

Sometime before lunch, Sam called Dean. "How's it going?" Long pause. Sam sighed. "Look, Dean. Someone planted those hex bags, someone with access to both houses. There's gotta be some connection." Another pause. "Quit whining."

Alex snickered.

"What?" Sam glanced at Alex. "Yeah, yeah. I'll check her out." He hung up.

"I take it Dean found something."

"Yeah. Uh, apparently the girl who was at the party last night is also the babysitter for the Wallace's."

"Hm." Alex nodded. "That sounds good. Well, good for us, I mean." She lapsed into silence.

 

**D** ean came back a few minutes later. He tossed the keys on the table.

"So, our apple-bobbing cheerleader?"

"Tracy?"

"Mm-hmm."

"The Wallace's babysitter." Dean let out a harsh breath. "She told me she'd never even heard of Luke Wallace."

"Hm. Interesting look for a century old witch."

"Yeah, well, if you were a six-hundred year old witch and you could pick any costume to come back in, wouldn't you go for a hot cheerleader?" Dean sat down across from his brother on the bed. "I would."

Sam glanced at his brother, shaking his head unbelievingly. Dean stared back innocently.

"Okie-dokie then." Alex sat on the bed next to Dean.

"Yeah. Well, uh, Tracy's not as wholesome as she looks. Did some digging --- apparently she got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers. Got suspended from school." Sam turned his laptop so Dean could see the screen. It was a background on Tracy Davis.

"Hm." Dean scrolled through it. "So we should go talk to that teacher."

"Yeah. His name is Mr. Harding. He's the art teacher."

"Okay." Dean stood up. "Let's go. Alex, on your feet." He pulled her up.

"No," Alex complained playfully.

"You need to get out. You've been cooped up far to long."

Alex sighed. "Fine. Whatever."

"Okay."Dean paused. "Is that my jacket?"

"One of them," Alex shrugged. "I really don't have that many clothes of my own."

Dean just shook his head.

 

**S** am and Dean changed into suits and ties, and all three got into the car. They drove ten minutes to the local high school. Dean led the way in. "Stay out of the way," he told Alex. "Okay? No asking questions, no bringing attention to yourself. If they ask why your here, your with us 'cause we were in the area and decided to stop by." He paused. "Just let me do the talking."

Alex nodded, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket. Well, Dean's jacket. They walked up a flight of stairs and down a hallway before pushing their way into a large room. Dean led the way, and Sam roughly nudged Alex out of the way to make room for him to go second. Alex let him. Dean was staring up at the ceiling where several masks were hung. He was looking at one particularly demonic looking one, and his body was rigid. Alex walked up to him, stopping by his side, letting her shoulder brush against his in a sign of silent comfort. "Bring back memories?" Sam asked, breaking his brother concentration.

"W-What do you mean?" Dean stammered.

"Being a teenager, all that angst." Sam seemed unaware of his brother's hesitance.

Dean let out a small, relieved sigh. "Oh."

"What'd you think I meant?"

"Nothing." Dean shook his head. Sam believed him, and walked forward.

"Hell?" Alex murmured.

Dean glanced down at her. She looked up, offering a small comforting smile. He said nothing, but walked after his brother.

Alex sighed, trailing after them. She felt slightly hurt at his coldness, but knew she shouldn't have expected anything else.

"You gentlemen wanted to talk to me?" A man came around the corner, carrying several items.

"Ah. Mr. Harding." Sam nodded in greeting.

"Oh, please, Don." Don held out his hand.

"Okay Don." Sam shook it.

Don shook Deans' hand. "Even my students call me Don."

"Yeah, we get it, Don." Both Dean and Sam pulled out their badges, showing them before putting them back away.

"Is, uh, she with you?" Don motioned to Alex.

"Yes, sorry." Dean spoke up. "We just came from lunch when we decided to swing by here. I hope you don't mind?"

Don shook his head. "It's no problem. Now, what do you want to know?" Alex took a few steps back to give them room to talk.

"We, uh, have a few questions about Tracy Davis."

"Uh, yeah, Tracy, uh, bright kid, loads of talent. It's a shame she got suspended."

"You, uh, had a . . . violent altercation?"

"Yeah. She exploded. If Principal Murrow hadn't walked by when he did, Tracy would have clawed my eyes out."

Alex frowned slightly. She looked around, studying the place. There was a boy across the room standing by a kiln. He looked over at her, waving. Alex shot him a half-hearted smile.

"Why?" She heard Sam ask.

"I, uh, you know, I was only trying to rap with her about her work. It had gotten inappropriate and disturbing."

At that, Alex turned back, interested.

"Even more disturbing, then, uh, those guys?" Dean pointed vaguely up at the masks.

"She would cover page after page with these bizarre cryptic symbols, and then there were the drawings." Don paused. "Detailed images of killings, gory, primitive, and she would depict herself in the middle of them, participating."

"Symbols? What kind of symbols?" Sam pulled something out of his pocket. "Uh, anything like this?"

Don studied it, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I think that might have been one of them."

"You know where Tracy is now?" Dean asked.

"I would imagine her apartment."

"Her apartment?"

"Yeah. She got her about a year ago, alone, as I understand it, as an emancipated teen. God only knows what her parents were like."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "Uh, thank you. If we have anymore questions, we'll call." Sam and Dean turned to leave. Alex trailed off behind.

 

**T** hey got back into the Impala. "Okay. Plan of action." Dean started up the car. "You have Tracy's address?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam pulled out his folder. "Right here."

"Okay. You go check out the place. I'll go talk to some of her friends from the party. Alex."

"Hm?" Alex looked up.

"With me." Dean glanced at her, then at Sam. "I'd send you with Sam, but I don't think I trust you two together on your own."

Sam huffed, shaking his head, and Alex rolled her eyes, but neither disagreed. They drove off. Dean dropped Sam off close to Tracy's address. It was only a mile or two from their motel, so Sam agreed to walk back. Alex slid up to the front seat, and they drove off.

 

**A** fter a few minutes, Dean cleared his throat. Alex looked over at him. "So, uh, what happened back there?" he finally asked.

Alex returned her eyes to the road. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, back at the art room. What was with that?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Alex broached the subject carefully.

"Listen." Dean's voice carried only the slightest bit of tension. "You knew what I was thinking when I saw that mask. Do you remember any of this or not?"

"I don't remember this. But it wasn't hard to guess." Alex turned her head to look at him. "I know you remember Hell, Dean. I remember the flashes of it from the show, of you yelling Sam's name. The blood, and the screams. And I'm really, really sorry you remember." She lowered her voice. "I wish I could have stopped you from dying. But that would only mean Sam would die instead of you. All I know is this whole damn thing couldn't be messier, but I'm just trying to help, okay?"

Dean was silent for a few seconds, watching the road. "I understand," he finally nodded. "And thanks for not telling Sam, and, uh, all that."

"Yeah, no problem. But, uh, if he does figure out you remember Hell, he didn't hear it from me, okay? I knew about the demon-blood exorcize-demons-with-his-mind thing, but I promised him I wouldn't tell you. And I'm telling you the same. I'm not a tattler, and I can keep secrets." She sighed, turning back to the window. "Just promise you'll keep mine," she murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"Your secret?" Dean scoffed. "And what secret is that?"

"That I come from a place where this is a show." Alex turned to face him, face serious. "That I know the future. If the wrong person finds out, I could be dead. Worse, I'd be tortured until I told them what I knew, and then I'd be killed."

Dean let out a long breath. "I won't let that happen," he finally promised. "I know what that feels like, and I won't let you go through it."

"Thank you."

 

**T** hey drove around. Dean a couple times to talk to several people, but Alex waited in the car. Dean handed her a bag of candy, reminding Alex that today was Halloween, and together they finished it off. Finally they headed back to the motel room. Sam walked towards them as they pulled in.

Dean got out. "So?" he asked.

"Tracy was nowhere I could find," Sam reported. "What about her friends?"

"Nah. Luck is not our style," Dean shrugged. "Her friends don't know where she is. It's like the bitch popped a broomstick." They started walking towards their room. Alex followed.

"She could be making the third sacrifice any time," Sam fretted, carefully watch a rather chubby child approach wearing an fake astronaut suit.

"Yes," Dean replied sarcastically, "thank you, Sam." Alex snickered.

The astronaut kid walked up to them and held out a bucket. "Trick or treat."

Dean looked around. "This is a motel."

"So?"

"So we don't have any candy."

"No, we have a ton in the uh," Sam turned to point to the Impala, but Dean stopped him.

"We did," he corrected. "It's gone now."

Sam looked at Dean, his face frowning sightly as he understood what Dean meant.

"Sorry, kid. We can't help ya," Dean finished.

The astronaut looked unimpressed. "I want candy."

"Well, I think you've had enough." Dean looked down at him disdainfully.

The astronaut stomped past him, brushing forcefully past Dean. Dean held up his hands, shaking his head.

Sam walked up to the motel door, unlocking it and stepping in. All Alex saw next was him rushing forward, drawing his gun. "Who are you?" he yelled.

Dean ran in. "Sam! Sam, wait. It's Castiel."

At the angel's name, Alex hurried into the room. Castiel was sitting on one of the beds. He stood up when they entered.

Dean put a hand on Sam's shoulder, and Sam lowered his gun, shocked. "The angel," Dean added. "Him, I don't know." Alex suddenly noticed the man standing near the window, looking out. Black skinned with a black suit and tie. Professional looking and here with Castiel? Angel.

"Hello Sam." Castiel acknowledged Dean's brother.

"Oh my God --er . . . uh-- I didn't mean to -- sorry," Sam stumbled. "It's an honor, really. I--I've heard a lot about you." Sam held out a hand. Castiel looked at it, unsure of what Sam was doing.

"Cas." Alex whispered, stepped forward. "It's a handshake." When Castiel did nothing, she added. "You're suppose to shake his hand."

Castiel did what she said. "It is an honor to meet you too, Sam Winchester," he said, his voice still deep and gravelly. "The boy with the demon blood. I'm glad to see you have ceased your . . . extracurricular activities."

Alex winced at those words. "Wow," she muttered to herself. "Smooth as fuck."

"Let's keep it that way," the angel facing the window said. His voice was deep as well, and Alex started to wonder if it was an angel thing. She shook the idea away.

"Yeah, okay Chuckles," Dean was saying. He had closed the motel door and had returned to stand by his brother. "Who's your friend?

Castiel ignored him. "This raising of Samhain. Have you stopped it?"

"Why?"

"Dean, have you located the witch?"

"Yeah, we've located the witch."

"And is the witch dead?"

"No, but--" Sam began.

"We know who she is," Dean finished.

Castiel walked over to the table in between the beds. "Apparently the witch knows who you are also," he said, holding up several hex bags. "These were inside the wall of your room. If we hadn't found them, surely one or all of you would have been dead. Do you know where the witch is now?"

"Why do you care?" Alex wondered aloud. Then she sucked in a loud breath. "This is a seal, isn't it? The raising of Samhain?"

"You know about the seals?" The angel at the window turned.

"So this is about your buddy Lucifer," Dean stated.

"Lucifer is no friend of ours," the angel replied coldly. Alex decided she didn't like him.

"It's just an expression."

"Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of the seals must be prevented at all costs."

"Okay great. Now that you're all here, why don't you tell us where the witch is, we'll gank her, and then we can all go home."

"We are not omniscient," Castiel said quietly. "This witch is very powerful. She's cloaked even our methods." He looked at Alex, asking a silent question. She shook her head. She didn't know.

"Okay, well, we already know who she is, so if we work together--"

Sam was cut off by the angel. "Enough of this."

"Alright, who are you and why should I care?" Dean snapped.

"This is Uriel," Castiel explained. Uriel approached. "He's what you might call a . . . specialist."

Uriel. The name flashed through Alex's mind. Right. He's an angel. Not a good one, if she remembered correctly. A traitor.

"What kind of specialist? What are you gonna do?"

"You -- uh, all of you -- need to leave town immediately," Castiel instructed.

"Why?"

"Because we're about to destroy it."

Sam and Dean exchanged a worried glance. "So this is your plan? You're gonna smite the whole friggin' town?" Dean finally snapped.

"We're out of time," Castiel snapped back. "The witch has to die, the seal must be saved."

"There are a thousand people here," Sam argued.

"One thousand two hundred and fourteen," Uriel corrected.

"And you're willing to kill them all?" Sam continued.

"This isn't the first time I've . . . purified a city."

"Look I understand this is regrettable," Castiel began.

Dean cut him off. "Regrettable?"

"We have to hold the line. We have lost too many seals already."

"So you screw the pooch on some seals and now the town has to pay the price?" Dean's fist shook angrily.

Castiel took a step forward. "It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There's a bigger picture here."

"Right. 'Cause your the bigger picture kind of guys."

"Lucifer cannot rise. If he does, Hell rises with him. It that something you're willing to risk?"

"We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone," Sam insisted. "Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die."

"We're wasting time with these mud monkeys," Uriel growled impatiently.

Castiel turned to face him. "I'm sorry, but we have our orders."

"No, you can't do this." Sam begged. "You're angels. I mean, aren't you suppose to -- You're suppose to show mercy!"

"Says who?" Uriel challenged.

"We don't have a choice," Castiel began.

"Of course you have a choice. I mean, come on, what? You've never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, a couple of hammers?" Dean stepped forward angrily.

"The order comes from heaven," Castiel said. "Therefore they are just."

Alex let out a frustrated snort, and Uriel turned to face her. "And who are you to doubt Heaven?" he asked, taking a menacing step towards her. "You're not even a Winchester."

"I'll doubt Heaven if I want." Alex crossed her arms. "I've seen how fallible and corruptible you angels can be --" She was cut off as Uriel walked up to her.

"Let her be," Castiel warned.

"Did you hear what she said, brother?" Uriel picked her up by the collar of her jacket. Alex struggled. "I should--"

"Uriel. Enough!" Castiel snapped, turning to face the other angel. "Put her down."

Uriel scowled, but obediently put Alex down. He stepped back, and Alex smoothed down her jacket.

Castiel turned to Dean. "I'm not gonna let you smite this whole town," Dean swore. "You'll have to kill me first, you hear? And you went through a lot of trouble to pull me out of Hell, so I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs, hmm? "

Castiel stood quietly for a second before nodding. "You two better move quickly. You have to stop the seal from breaking." Then he was gone. Uriel followed.

Sam seemed shocked at the angel's sudden disappearance. "Now what?" he finally turned to his brother.

"Now we go stop that witch." Dean turned towards the door. They followed. They walked over to the Impala when Dean stopped dead in his tracks. The Impala was covered in eggs.

Alex winced. Someone was going to die.

"ASTRONAUT!" Dean got into his car, slamming the door behind him. Sam and Alex got in as well. He looked over at Sam. "What?"

"Nothing." Sam studied the hex bag in his hand. He took a long breath. "It's just, I thought they'd be different."

"Who, the angels?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I tried to warn ya." Dean glanced back at Alex.

"I mean, I thought they'd be . . . righteous," Sam finished.

"Well, they are righteous. That's kind of the problem. Of course there's nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he's on a holy mission."

Alex let out a disagreeable huff.

"What?" Dean looked at her. "You think I'm wrong?"

"It's just . . . " Alex hesitated, unsure of how to explain it without ruining anything. "Heaven's . . . not what you think it is. Not anymore. Uh, ever since God left, the archangels have been running the show, and, well, they're . . . they're not God."

Both Sam and Dean turned around, shocked. "What?"

Alex shot them an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't have said any of that."

"So there's no God?"

"No, there's a God. There's definitely a God. He, just . . . isn't in heaven anymore. I don't know why. But he has his reasons."

Sam looked utterly disappointed, and Dean just shook his head. Sam opened the hex bag and sullenly went through the contents.

"Well, are you gonna figure out a way to stop this witch, or are you just gonna sit their fingering your bone?" Dean asked his brother, trying to lighten the mood.

"You know how much heat it would take char a bone like this, Dean?" Sam held up the newborn's bone.

"No."

"A lot. I mean, more than a fire or some kitchen oven."

"Okay, Betty Crocker, what does that mean?"

"Kiln," Alex said.

"Right," Sam nodded.

"Okay." Dean pulled the car out of the parking lot. "High school it is."

 

**T** hey pulled into the high school, and got out. Dean straightened his tie and led them in. They stopped in office. "Excuse me, but is Don Harding in?"

The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, but he's out for the day. Can I take a message?"

"No." Dean shook his head. "It's fine." They left, and Dean let out a small smile as he led them up to Don's office. Dean immediately headed over to one of the large kilns. Alex followed. They looked inside. "So Tracy used the kiln to char the bones. What's the big deal?"

Alex looked up to see Sam over at Don's desk. "Dean, that hex bag turned up in our room not after we talked to Tracy--"

"After we talked to the teacher," Dean finished. He walked over to Sam.

Alex followed. "Yeah. And three hex bags turned up. Tracy only knew the two of you. So what? Are they both in on it? Or does the teacher have access to that party and the Wallace's?"

Dean looked thoughtful at her comment, and Sam looked down at the desk. "Hey," he began, kneeling beside a locked bottom drawer. Dean handed him a nearby hammer, and Sam easily knocked the latch from the wooden desk. He opened it, and let out a long breath. There was a small bowl with several small bones. One of them was charred. Alex recognized some of them to be jawbones.

"My God," Sam said quietly. "Those are all from children."

"And I'm guessing he's not saving them for the dog," Dean added dryly. Sam closed the door and stood up.

"So is Tracy off the hook then?" Alex asked.

"Looks like it."

There was movement outside the door, and all three froze. "We should probably go," Dean said. All three agreed.

 

**T** hey were back at the motel within five minutes. Sam was quick to find the address of Don Harding. Then they made their plan. By the time they headed out, it was dark. Dean and Sam had reluctantly admitted that it would be smart for Alex to come along, but both agreed that she was to stay in the car. Alex had whole-heartedly agreed. Don's house was on the other side of town, and they arrived there at approximately ten o'clock. Dean parked the car, and all three got out. They circled around to the trunk, and the Winchesters loaded their guns. Alex took hers, and went back to the front seat. She watched them cross the street, and then she lost sight.

 

**I** t was fifteen minutes later when there was movement. Alex immediately perked up. She recognized Don Harding as he entered the house. He walked clumsily, and his shirt was stained in blood. Sensing something was off, Alex slumped down in her seat, watching him warily. He made his way down the street, passing by several trick-or-treaters. He always turned his head to watch them, and Alex knew something was definitely wrong. A few seconds after he disappeared from sight Sam and Dean hurried out. Alex got out of the car to meet them, frowning when she saw the blood over their faces. "What happened?"

"Shut up," Dean growled. He turned to Alex. "How the hell are we going to find this mook?"

"Where would you go to raise other dark forces of the night?" Sam countered.

"The cemetery." Dean got into the car. Sam and Alex followed.

"So Samhain's up and walking around?" Alex asked as the drove off.

"Pretty much."

"Tell me what happened," Alex prompted them when they fell silent.

"Well, we got there and Don had Tracy chained up. We shot him and untied her."

"Turns out she was in on it too," Dean added.

Sam nodded. "She threw us back and finished the spell."

"And the blood?" Alex frowned again.

"Sam's idea. He uh . . . took a shot."

"People used masks to hide from Samhain," Sam explained. "And it worked."

"Thank God for that," Dean mumbled, slowing the car to let several kids cross the road.

"Okay. What about Tracy? Is she dead?"

"Yeah. Samhain and her had this whole . . . lovers reunited thing going on." When Dean chuckled, Sam glared at him. "Then he snapped her neck and called her a whore."

Alex snorted. "Ah. At least he's a demon with standards."

Dean chuckled again, less this time.

"Yea. But, uh, he's pretty powerful." Sam glanced at his brother. "It might take more than the usual weapons."

Dean met his brother's gaze, then understood what he was getting out. "Sam, no," he protested. "You're not using your psychic whatever."

"Don't even think about it." Sam shook his head "Ruby's knife is enough. Why?"

"Well, because the angel said so for one--"

"I thought you said they're a bunch of fanatics."

"Well, they happen to be right on this one."

"I don't know, Dean. It doesn't seem like they're right about much."

"Because you would know about that," Alex snapped. "They're not as bad as you think. Sure, a lot are assholes, but some try."

"Just forget about the angels," Dean snapped back. "You said yourself, these powers, it's like playing with fire." Dean pulled Ruby's knife out from his jacket, holding it out for Sam. "Please."

Sam took the knife, but said nothing as Dean pulled the car into the cemetery.

"There. Samhain." Alex pointed towards the mausoleum.

Sam and Dean got out. "Stay here. "

"I can help," Alex snapped. "I won't get in the way. Promise."

Sam ran off towards the building, and Dean sighed. "Fine. Do _exactly_ as we say, okay?"

Alex nodded, and followed Dean. They ran down the stairs. At the bottom was a hallway going left, and across from that was a crypt, separated by a large gate. Teenagers were crowded behind it, begging to get out. There was a loud rattling noise, and Alex saw that the crypts were shaking.

"Help them," Sam ordered.

"Dude, you're not going off alone."

"Do it!" Sam ran off down the hallway.

"Stand back," Dean pulled out his gun. The teens back away, and Dean shot the lock. The door swung open. "Come on!" Dean yelled. "Get out!" The teens ran past him. "Move!"

The last one disappeared up the stairs, but the panels to the crypts were still shaking. One cracked open, and a zombie crawled out. "Damn!" Alex cursed. "I hate zombies. What do I do?" She pulled out her gun. "Headshot?"

Dean nodded. Several more zombies crawled out, and Dean open fired. Alex followed suit. She was still a decent shot, and hit several of them dead on. They crumpled to the ground. One stood in front of them, and Dean turned his gun towards it. However, it flickered and disappeared. Alex recognized it with confusion. She had already killed that one. Then it reappeared behind Dean, sending him flying into the wall.

"Zombie ghost orgy, huh?" Dean grumbled, standing up. "That's it. We're torching everybody. Alex." He tossed her keys. "Salt. Gasoline. Now."

Alex nodded and dashed up the stairs and to the car. She reached into the trunk and pulled out what she needed. Then she went back downstairs. "Here." She handed the stuff to Dean. "Salt. Gasoline. Iron crowbar."

Dean nodded appreciatively. "Good thinking," he praised her. Several more zombies were laying on the floor. "I've been having trouble with these damn zombies ghosts." As he spoke, another one appeared. Dean swung the crowbar, dispelling it. He took the salt and poured them over the corpses. Alex wordlessly did the same with the gasoline. Dean lit a lighter, and the bodies exploded into flames. A ghost appeared only to scream in pain as it burned up. They left the empty containers and hurried off to find Sam.

He was at the end of the hallway facing them, hand outstretched. In front of him was Samhain. Alex and Dean came to a stop. As they watched, black smoke unfurled from his mouth, falling to the ground. The floor glowed with an fiery light as the smoke disappeared. Samhain's vessel collapsed as the last of the smoke disappeared. He look up, finally noticing them. Blood was dripping down from his nose, and for the first time in a long time, Alex felt afraid of him.

Dean stared at his brother, then spun around, walking away. "Dean," Sam began. Alex shot him an apologetic and scared look, then hurried after his brother. Sam followed.

 

**T** hey wordlessly got back into the car and drove off. As they neared the motel, Sam spoke. "Dean, listen." When Dean didn't say anything, Sam continued. "I'm sorry, okay? But what was I suppose to do? The knife was on the other side of the room. He would have killed me, then you, and then who would stop him?"

"It's fine." Dean didn't look at his brother. "I understand. I, I just wish you didn't have to do it, ya know?"

"Yes."

They lapsed back into silence.

 

**N** o one was able to sleep. Dean and Sam drank, and Alex sat on the bed, refusing to turn off the lights. Neither brother disagreed. Eventually Alex fell asleep, but woke up several hours later in a cold sweat. She slept on and off the rest of that night.

 

**T** he next day, Sam brought in breakfast. Alex had little appetite, and nibbled on the food. Nothing was said about last night. After a few hours of milling around, Dean stood up. "I'm going over to the park," he said. Sam didn't offer to go with.

"Can I come?" Alex asked quietly.

Dean looked at her, eyes dull. "Fine," he finally said. He walked out of the door, and Alex followed. She let him walk a few feet ahead of her as they crossed the street and walked down the block. There was a large field along with a playground. Dean sat down on a bench, staring out. Alex sat at the base of the tree next to him, losing herself in her own thoughts.

 

**T** hey were there for several minutes before there was a flutter of wings. Both Alex and Dean looked over. "Let me guess," Dean said dryly. "You're here for the, 'I told you so'."

"No."

"Good. Because I'm not really that interested."

"I am not here to judge you, Dean."

Alex watched their interaction carefully, not feeling in the mood to join the conversation.

"Then why are you here?" Dean snapped.

"Our orders--"

"Yeah, you know, I've had about enough of these orders of yours--"

Castiel interrupted him. "Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever you told us to do." At that, Alex perked up. She didn't remember that.

"Your orders were to follow my orders?" Dean asked skeptically.

"It was a test to see how you would preform under...battlefield conditions, you might say."

That's interesting, Alex though. Why is that? Because he's Michael's vessel, perhaps? That doesn't make sense. Weird.

Dean scoffed at Castiel's words. "It was a witch, not the Tet Offensive." He sighed. "So I, uh, failed your test, huh? I get it. But you know what? If you had waved that magic time-traveling wand of yours and we had to do this all over again, I'd make the same call. 'Cause see, I don't know what's going to happen when those seals are broken, hell, I don't even know what's going to happen tomorrow. But what I do know is this, here? These kids, those swings, this tree, it's all here because of my brother and me."

_And me,_ Alex added silently. _Although I guess I really didn't do anything._ She sighed.

"You misunderstand me, Dean." Castiel spoke, his voice deep and smooth. "I'm not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save this town."

"You were?" Dean could barely contain his surprise.

"These people, they're all my father's creations. They're works of art, and yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to hell on earth, for all creation. Now that's not an expression, Dean. It's literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means."

Dean visibly flinched.

"Smooth, Cas," Alex muttered. Like always, she was ignored.

"Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?" Castiel looked over at the hunter. When Dean nodded, Castiel let out a breath. "I am not a . . . hammer, as you say. I have questions, I have doubts. I don't know what is right or what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight upon your shoulder's. Either of yours." He looked at Alex, and she understood what he meant. "I truly don't."

Alex let out a sad smile. Castiel disappeared.

 

**T** hat night, Sam and Dean were able to fall asleep. Alex tried too. She woke up in a cold sweat. As her dream came back, she began to shake. She looked over at the Winchesters. Fast asleep. She fell back onto the pillows, breathing heavily. Fear gnawed at her stomach, and soon she was too scared to stay laying down. After a second's thought, she crawled out of her bed and made her way over to the other bed. She crawled in between Sam and Dean, curling up.

Dean shifted groggily. "Alex?"

Alex hummed a response.

"What's wrong?" Dean sat up, looking down at her. Sam grunted, but remained asleep.

"Nightmare." Alex tried to steady her breathing as the memories returned. The half-rotten corpses breaking out of the crypts, staggering towards her. She started shaking again.

Dean groaned quietly.

"Sorry," Alex apologized shakily, her breathing ragged. "I--I can leave if you want me to."

"No, no. It's fine." Dean laid back down, turning his back to her. "Just, uh, keep it down. And hands to yourself."

Despite herself, Alex huffed in amusement. "Same to you." She closed her eyes, comforted by the two hunters on either side of her. She was able to fall asleep.


	9. Wishful Thinking

**S** he awoke the next morning for find she was the only one in bed. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Sam glanced over at her. "Slept well, I suppose." 

"Mm-hmm." Alex yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Sam just shook his head. "What's the matter, Sammy?" Alex studied the hunter. 

"It's just . . . there are two beds, you know." 

"I had a nightmare." Alex got up, wincing as her feet touched the cold, thin carpet. "Thanks for not killing me in my sleep." 

"Hm. Thanks for the idea." 

Alex couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

 

 **T** hey spent the next three or four days there, looking for cases. Dean somewhat forgave Sam, but what had happened that night was never brought up. One night, Dean and Sam went out to a bar, leaving Alex on her own. She turned on the lights, curling up in her bed. She had gotten over the whole zombie thing from Halloween, but her heart still raced in fear at the thought. She turned on the tv to get her mind off of them.

At some point, she fell asleep. She woke up when the door opened. She sat up, gun in hand. "It's just us." Dean held up his hands. 

Alex lowered her gun. "Sorry." 

"No, it's fine. You had the right idea." Dean closed the door behind him and Sam. "Get packed. We're leaving." 

"What?" Alex stood up, silently protesting as she left the warm bed. "It's, like, midnight or something." 

"Well, we've got a case. In Washington." 

"Washington?" Alex shook her head in disbelief. "We're in Pennsylvania! That's on the other side of the country!"

"Yep. If we leave now, we'll be there the day after tomorrow." 

"Unless you want us to drop you off at Bobby's," Sam added as he packed his things.

"No, no." Alex shook her head again. "Just let me pack." She threw her clothes that where laying by her bag into her bag. Then she checked the bathroom for other stuff. Lastly, she grabbed her necklace out of her bag and put it around her neck. She paused a moment to finger the anti-possession charm next to the angel wing pennant. Bobby had given it to her during those four months when Dean was in hell. It was much different from the tattoos the Winchester's had; instead of a flaming star in a circle, it had a silver Chinese symbol scrawled into a red base - Alexhad no idea what it meant. The edges and back were the same silver metal. It was old, but worked fine. 

With a sigh, she pulled herself out of her thoughts and placed the necklace around her neck. "Okay. Let's go." 

She walked out to the car and threw her bag into the back. Sam and Dean got into the front seat. "Aren't you guys even tired?" she mumbled, using her bag as a pillow, laying down. 

"Not really." 

"You guys are insane," she yawned, falling back into an uncomfortable sleep. 

 

 **S** he awoke when the Impala hit a large bump, sending Alex up into the air. The sky was light with a rising sun, and clouds dotted the sky. "Where are we?" Alex mumbled, sitting up. 

"Somewhere in Illinois," Dean responded. "How'd you sleep?" 

"Good, I think." Alex leaned over the bench seat. "Hey Sammy." 

"Hey." Sam glanced over at her uneasily as Alex leaned her head against his shoulder. "What are you doing?" 

"Making you uncomfortable." 

"It's working." 

"Good." Alex yawned, falling back in her seat. "Damn my neck hurts." 

"Don't--" 

"--swear. I know." Alex rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm hungry." 

"We've been waiting for you to wake up before we stopped." 

"Thanks." Alex adjusted the necklace under her shirt. She looked down at her clothes. Sam's sweatpants and a t-shirt. She rifled around in her bag, frowning. "Dean-o. Can I borrow a jacket? It's cold, and I see none of them are in my bag." 

"They're in the trunk," Dean admitted. "I'll get you one when we stop." 

Alex grunted her thanks. They drove a few more minutes before they pulled into a nice looking diner for breakfast. Dean got Alex a jacket out from the trunk, and she gratefully pulled it on. "Are you just going to stay in that?" Dean asked. 

Alex looked down at her, well, Sam's, sweatpants. "Yeah. If we're just driving, I'm choosing comfort. Let's eat." She headed for the door. 

Sam looked her up and down. "You look wonderful," he told her. 

Alex let out a huff of amusement. "I get my fashion tips from you," she shot back lightly. She felt Sam and Dean exchanged a look as they entered the diner. It had a homey feeling inside, and they sat down at a booth. "You know what would be good?" Alex asked them. "Pig in a poke." 

Sam stiffened beside her, and Alex smiled. "What's that?" Dean asked. 

"Inside joke. Right Sammy?" 

Sam said nothing. A waitress approached, bringing them menus. "Hello, and welcome to Sal's Diner. Can I start you off with any drinks? Coffee, juice?" 

"I'll just take water, thank you." Sam ordered. 

"Yeah, and I think I'll have the same." 

The waitress turned to Alex. "And how about you?" 

"What do you have with caffeine? Mountain Dew? Coke?" 

"Uh, yeah. We have Mountain Dew."

"Okay. I'll have that." Alex stifled a large yawn. The waitress walked away.

"Mountain Dew?" Dean looked over at her. "For breakfast?" 

"Breakfast of champions." Alex looked through her menu. "Bacon would go well with that. Ooh. Or pancakes." Sam shifted, brushing up against her, and Alex light-heartedly bumped him back. She quickly decided to go with the chocolate chip pancakes, and set down her menu. "So, today's just driving, eh?" When Dean nodded, Alex sighed. "Wonderful. Mind sharing what brought this about?" 

"A woman claims she was pushed down the stairs by a ghost." 

"Hm. Claims?" 

"Yep." 

"So we're driving two days because some woman claims to have been pushed down the stairs. Maybe she just tripped and was embarrassed." 

Sam shrugged. "We've driven farther for less." He trailed off as the waitress returned with their drinks. 

"Are you ready to order?" 

"Yeah." Sam looked down at him menu. "I'll take the chocolate chip pancakes, please."

"Same for me," Alex piped up. 

"I'll just have the bacon and eggs. With hash browns." Dean handed the waitress the menus with a wink. She blushed and walked away. 

Alex rolled her eyes. "Do you have to flirt with every girl you meet?" 

"No. I didn't flirt with you, did I?"

Sam let out an amused noise, but Alex just shook her head, holding back a smile. "Well then, in that case." 

 

 **T** hey were back on the road within the hour. Alex had to admit those were some of the best pancakes she had ever had, and was now sitting contently in the backseat. 

 

 **T** hey drove the whole day. Sam and Dean switched off at one point, giving Dean a chance to sleep. They stopped for lunch, for dinner, and one time in the afternoon for snacks, gas, and a chance to stretch their legs. Otherwise, they were in the car. They pulled into a motel sometime late that night, but the next morning, they were back on the road. They arrived the next day. 

 

**October 10th, 2008**

**Concrete, Washington**

**"O** kay." Dean emerged out of the bathroom, pulling a blue plaid shirt over his black t-shirt. "Here's the plan. You two go talk to Candace like you talked about. Get her story. I'll . . . go check out the woman's shower room. Just to see if there's any EMF," he added quickly when both Sam and Alex rolled their eyes. "Shut up." He threw a faded jacket on as well. 

They went outside and got into the car. Dean dropped them off outside of Lucky Chin's Chinese Restaurant before driving off. Sam led them inside, and Alex inhaled deeply. It smelled like fried goodness. There was a young woman sitting at a table, right arm in a sling. When they entered, she looked up. 

"Uh, Candace Armstrong?" Sam approached. 

"Yes, that's me." 

"My name is Sam, and this is Alex." Alex gave a small wave. "I contacted you about using your story for my book?" 

"Yes. Please. Sit." 

Sam obliged, and Alex pulled up a chair. Sam pulled out a pen and a small pad of paper. "So, you say you encountered a spirit?" 

"Yes. It was terrifying." 

"Where did this happen?" 

"At the Fitness Center across town. I had just finished my workout and I was in the shower room, taking a shower. I got out, and that's when I got the feeling that I wasn't alone. I asked if someone was there, but there wasn't an answer." She watched Sam write something down before continuing. "That's when I threw the towel behind me, and it landed . . . on the spirit." She paused. "I'm not surprised the spirit would choose to make contact with me. I'm something of a . . . natural sensitive." 

"I can sense that about you . . . Candace," Sam lied slowly. "About the . . . sensitive thing." 

"So, what did you say you're calling your book?" 

"Oh, well, it's called . . ." Sam searched his brain. 

" _Supernatural_ ," Alex cut in. "Well, that's the working title." 

"Yeah, I -- We've been crossing the country, gathering stories like yours." Sam nodded. "But, uh, anyways. You were telling me about your encounter." 

"Yes. Well," she let out a small sigh. "After I saw the apparition, that's when I ran." 

Alex nodded, glancing up at Sam. He was staring at a couple a few tables down, who were kissing. She kicked him under the table. Sam jumped. "Uh, you said the ghost was chasing you?" 

"Now just that . . . It knew my name." Candace's face grew confused. "It kept yelling, 'Mrs. Armstrong, Mrs. Armstrong.' And that's when I reached the stairs and fell." 

Alex tilted her head. "Fell? I thought you were pushed." 

"Oh I don't -- I don't know. I think it did. Maybe." 

"Did you feel like it meant to hurt you?" Sam asked. "Like it was violent, or . . ." 

"It was a ghost. I'm lucky to be alive. Anyways, I was at the bottom of the stairs, and that's when it got weird." She let out a small chuckle. "It helped me up." 

Both Alex and Sam exchanged a look. "Say again?" 

"Yeah. It helped me up. And it kept saying, 'Please don't tell my mom'." 

"Yeah. That's weird." Sam put his pen away. "Uh, thank you. Is there anything else?" 

"No, no. That's it." 

"Uh, okay." Sam stood up, and Alex followed. "Thanks then. Have a good day." They left. 

 

 **T** hey walked down main street. The Impala came into view, parked in front of a large blue house with the sign, _Concrete Fitness Center_ next to it. Dean was sitting on the front step, reading the newspaper when they approached. "Well, you pick up anything?" Sam asked. 

Dean looked up. "No EMF in the showers or anything else. This house is clean."

"Yeah. I'm not surprised. I kind of think get the feeling that _crazy_ pushed Mrs.Armstrong down those stairs." 

"I got to tell you, I'm pretty disappointed." Dean stood up and started walking towards the car. 

Sam let out a breath. "You wanted to save naked women." 

"Damn right I wanted to save naked women." 

Sam let out a small chuckle. Rapid footsteps approached, and all three looked up to see a small boy being chased by three other ones. They were yelling. They ran past. 

"Run, Forrest, run!" Dean called after them in a southern drawl. Alex laughed. 

Sam let out an amused noise as well before turning back to his brother. "Sorry, Dean, but I don't think anything's going on around here." 

"Waste of a trip," Alex mumbled. She looked up at Sam and Dean who were staring to the right. She looked. 

There was a ranger talking to a man, who seemed to be getting worked up. "How the hell was I suppose to get a look at it? It grabbed me from behind and threw me into a tree!" 

"Yeah, okay, Gus. I understand you got shook up. Anyone would be," the ranger tried to calm him down. "But don't you think that . . . don't you think it had to be a bear?" 

"Something's going on," Dean muttered. They started walking towards the scene. 

"I know a damn bear track when I see one," Gus yelled. "This thing didn't leave bear tracks! It's feet were huge!" 

"Now, Gus . . ." 

"It was Bigfoot. Ha! The Bigfoot." 

Alex looked at Sam and Dean. They were reaching into their pockets. Alex knew they were pulling out some sort of ID. Then they hurried over to the two men. Alex followed behind. 

"Gus, you're not talking sense here." 

"There's a Bigfoot out there, and he's a son of a bitch!" 

"Excuse me." Sam interrupted Gus. "FBI." Both Winchesters flashed their badges, and Alex made a mental note to start carrying hers as well.

"What?" The ranger studied them.

"Yes sir. We're here about the . . . that." Sam motioned to Gus. 

"About Bigfoot?" 

"That's right." Sam sounded absolutely confident. "Sir, can you tell me exactly where this happened?"

"Yes I can.” Gus pointed behind him. "Just up that trail a few miles, up on that hill. Clear as day." 

"Thank you." Sam and Dean started walking the way he pointed. Alex followed. 

 

 **I** t was almost an hour hike before they reached the top of the hill. Alex was enjoying herself, even though it was slightly chilly. Sam and Dean were a few feet ahead of her, walking in silence. "What the hell is going on in this town?" Dean finally asked. "First there's a ghost that's not real, and now a Bigfoot sighting." 

"Well, every hunter worth his salt knows Bigfoot's a hoax." Alex grunted in agreement with Sam. 

"Maybe someone's pumping LSD int the town's water supply," Dean suggested. 

They both stopped in their tracks. Alex caught up, confused. Then she stopped as well. Large footprints led away from them down the trail. They were definitely not bear tracks. 

"Okay, who do you suppose made that?" Dean looked over at Sam. 

"That, uh . . . is a big foot." 

"Uh, yeah." Dean started following the tracks down the trail. Sam and Alex followed. 

 

 **T** hey quickly came out of the woods. Across the clearing was a metal bridge that led over a gully. One the other side was a liquor store. They crossed the narrow bridge and walked up to the building. Footprints led up to a wooden door that had been torn of it's hinges. They entered. "So what, Bigfoot breaks into a liquor store jousting for some hooch?" Dean studied the broken bottles on the floor. "Amaretto and Irish cream. He's a girl-drink drunk." He stood up, cast an amused look at Sam, and took a bottle of the shelf. He put it in his jacket pocket. 

"Hey. Check it out." Sam stopped near the back of the store. 

Dean and Alex walked over to him. "He took the whole porno rack?" Dean shook his head unbelievingly. Sam pulled something out from the shelf. It was fur. Dean blinked. "Well, I'll say it again. What the hell is going on in this town?" 

Sam shook his head. He walked towards the front door. Dean followed. Alex hesitated, then grabbed a Coke out of the fridge. Then she walked after them, unscrewing the cap. 

They were sitting on the bench outside, completely silent. Alex leaned against the building, watching them. Finally Dean spoke. "I got nothing." 

"It's got to be a joke, right? Some big-ass mother in a gorilla suit." 

"Or it's a Bigfoot," Dean suggested. "You know, he's a alcoholo-porno addict. Kind of like a deep woods Duchovny." Sam shot his brother a glance. Dean ignore him. "You remember any of this?" he called over his shoulder. 

Alex let out a breath. "Nope. Sorries." 

"Whatever." Their attention was drawn to a young girl riding a bike. She rode right past them, and something fell out of the crate that was strapped to the bicycle's back. 

Dean tipped his head in confusion, getting up. He grabbed it. Sam followed. "Little young for busty Asian beauties," Dean commented dryly. He rolled it up and hurried after the girl. Sam and Alex followed. They peered around the corner, and Alex saw the girl reappear, crate empty. She pedaled away. 

They walked around to the back. There, on the back step, was a box that contained several bottles of alcohol and some porno magazines. A note was laying on top of them, and on it was written the word _Sorry._

"Okay. That's weird too." Alex spoke, taking a sip of her drink. Dean grunted his agreement. 

"Should we . . . go find this girl?" Sam asked slowly. "I mean, unless she robbed the store herself, she might know who did." 

"Then she'd still know who did it," Alex pointed out. She was ignored. 

"Come on." They started walking back down towards the town. 

 

 **W** ithin the hour they were back in the Impala, driving through the suburbs surrounding the town. 

"There." Sam spoke, pointing to one house. In front of it stood the very same bike they had seen the girl riding. 

Dean parked the car, and they got out. Alex checked her pockets to make sure the FBI badge was there before following. "What's this, like a 'Harry and the Henderson's' deal?" Dean grumbled as Sam rang the doorbell. 

They young girl answered. "Hello?" 

"Hello," Sam responded. "Can we, um . . . you know what? Are your parents home?" 

"Nope." 

"No," Sam repeated. 

"No." Dean glanced at his brother. "Um, have you seen a really, really, furry . . ."

"Is he in trouble?" the young girl asked, eyes wide.

"No." Dean let out a small chuckle. "No, no no. Not at all. We, uh, we just want to make sure he's okay." 

"He's my teddy bear. I think he's sick." 

"Wow." Dean looked over at Alex. She had her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Uh . . . amazing." 

"Well, we're actually, uh, teddy bear doctors," Alex said gently. Sam looked confused, but went with it. Dean nodded in agreement, and reached into his jacket, pulling out his Health Inspector ID. Sam did the same. Alex looked at them. Did they carry around every ID they had?

"Really?" The young girl seemed to believe them. "Can you please take a look at him?" 

"Sure." Sam nodded, and Dean echoed him. 

"Yeah. Sure." 

The young girl led them into the house and up the wide stairs. "He's in my bedroom," she explained. She stopped beside a closed door and knocked on it. "Teddy? There's some nice doctors here to see you." She opened the door. 

Alex stopped, shocked. She looked up to see the same shock on Sam and Dean's face. Inside was a huge teddy bear, at least seven feet tall. It was rocking back and forth, a whiskey bottle in its hand. "Close the friggin door!" it cried, turning to look at them. 

The girl closed the door. "See what I mean?" 

Sam and Dean said nothing. They just stood there, faces blank. Alex let out a smile. She remembered this. Yes. This was an episode. 

Sam looked down at her. "Alex? You okay?" 

She looked up at him. "I remember this," she whispered. 

"All I wanted was a teddy bear that was big, real, and talked. But now he's sad all the time -- not 'ouch' sad, but 'ouch in the head' sad -- says weird stuff, and smells like the bus." 

"Ummm, little girl," Dean began. 

"Audrey." 

"Audrey, how exactly did your teddy bear become real?" 

"It was the wishing well, wasn't it?" Alex piped up. 

Audrey nodded. "The one at the restaurant!" 

Dean looked at Alex before stepping forward and opening the bedroom door. Alex peered in. 

"Look at this!" the teddy bear cried, pointing to the now-flickering tv across from him. He let out a sad chuckle. "You believe this crap?" 

"Not really," Dean said awkwardly, looking back at Sam. Sam shrugged. 

"It is a terrible world! Why am I here?!" 

"For tea parties!" Audrey insisted. 

"Tea parties?" The bear turned to look at the girl. "Is that all there is?" There were gunshots on the tv, and Alex thought back to the show, where the bear tried to commit suicide by shooting himself. It seemed a lot funnier on tv. This, this was just creepy.

Dean closed the door, stepping back into the hall. "Uh, Audrey, can we have a minute?" When the girl walked off, he turned back to them. "Can we . . . should we . . . " Dean stuttered, looking for the right words. "Uh, are we going to kill that teddy bear?" 

Alex snorted. "How do kill it? You can't shoot it. I remember this from the show. The bear tries to kill itself with a gun. He blows his stuffing out, but he lives." 

"Burn it?" Sam suggested. 

"How do we even know that's going to work?" Dean snapped. "I don't want some giant, flaming, pissed-off teddy bear on our hands." 

Alex let out a noise in agreement. 

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Besides, I get the feeling that the teddy bear isn't really the, you know, core problem here." He turned to Audrey. "Audrey, where are your parents?" 

"My mom wished they were in Bali, so I think they're in Bali." 

"Okay, well . . . I'm really sorry to have to break this to you, but . . . your bear is sick. Yeah. He's . . . he's got . . ." 

"Lollipop disease." Dean took over. 

Sam nodded, glancing at his brother. "Lollipop disease," he repeated. 

"It's not uncommon for a bear his size. But, see it's . . . " 

". . . really contagious." Alex finished.

"Yeah." Sam agreed. "Is there someone, maybe a grown-up, that you can stay with while we heal him?" 

"Mrs. Hurley lives down the street." 

"Perfect." 

"Good, yeah, good. Uh, we'd like you to stay there for a couple days, okay?" 

"Okay." Audrey started walking away. 

"Oh, and Audrey, where exactly is the wishing well?" 

"Lucky Chin's." 

"Okay." Sam looked down at Alex. _We were just there,_ his eyes told her. She nodded. "Thank you." 

Audrey nodded and hurried down the stairs. Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. "What the hell."

"I don't know." Dean shook his head. "Anything, Alex?" 

"Uh, Babylonian coin. Belongs to a guy who wished for a girl to love him. Yeah. Should, uh, should we head over to the Chinese place." 

"Yeah." They left. 

 

 **W** ithin five minutes Dean had the Impala parked outside Lucky Chin's Chinese Restaurant. He led them in and over to the fountain. "Think it works?" he asked, looking down. 

"Got a better explanation for teddy back there?" 

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Dean fished a quarter out of his pocket.

"You sure that's safe?" Alex glanced warily up at the hunter.

Dean let out an amused noise, tossing the coin into the fountain. 

"What'd you wish for?"

"Sh." Dean cast a glance at his brother. "I'm not suppose to tell." 

A bell rung, signaling the opening of the door. "Somebody order a footlong Italian with jalapeños?"

"That'd be me." Dean grinned, turning around. He swiftly crossed the room and took the sandwich from the delivery man.

"Here you go. Free of charge." Then the man left, and Dean turned back to them, face smug. He sat down at the table. Sam and Alex joined him. 

Dean unwrapped the sandwich, taking a large bite. "I think it works, dude," he mumbled around it. "That was pretty specific." 

"The teddy bear, the sandwich . . ." 

"And I'm guessing this." Dean slid the newspaper article about the lottery winner over to Sam.

"I'm guessing that." Sam pointed to where a couple were kissing. Alex blinked as she recognized them as the same couple from before. 

"Yeah, that definitely goes on the list. What are we suppose to do, huh? Stop people's wishes from coming true? I mean, it sounds like kind of a douche-y thing to do." 

"Yeah, maybe. But come on, man. When does something like this ever come without a price tag? And usually a deadly one." 

"I don't know." Dean looked down at his food. "It's only a goddamn sandwich. Fine. We'll put a hold on the wishing until we figure out what's going on." He glanced over at Alex. "Want some?" He held out the sandwich, wiggling it appetizingly. 

"No thanks. I'd rather keep my guts on the inside, thank you." Alex was partially drowned out as the manager came over to them. 

"Gentlemen, gentlemen. I'm sorry, but we do not allow people to eat outside food here." 

"Well, I am certainly not going to eat the inside food here," Dean said, voice rising authoritatively, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out a badge, starting to open it. Then he put it back. Alex smirked. Apparently the wrong ID. Dean fished out another. He glanced at it, then showed the manager. "Health Department. You, my friend, have a rat infestation. We're gonna have to shut this place down under emergency hazard code 56C." 

"Rats?!" 

"Yes, rats. Now. Can we please get everyone out of here? And uh, drain that fountain." 

 

 **F** ive minutes later, it was done. The restaurant was empty and so was the fountain. Dean was kneeling beside it, sweeping away the many coins. "Typical fountain, plater Buddha," he reported. "Nothing I can see." Dean stood up. 

"Yes, nothing," the manager agreed. "We keep a clean place here."

Sam turned to him. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave during the preliminary investigation, okay? Thank you." 

The manager nodded and moved back several steps. 

"Oh, come on." Dean picked up a penny. "Aren't you a little bit tempted?" he tossed the coin to Sam. 

He chuckled. "No. Wouldn't be real." He handed it back. "I wouldn't trust it." 

"I don't know. The bear seemed pretty real." 

Alex grunted in agreement with Dean's statement. "Yeah."

"Come on. If you could wish yourself back, before it all started . . . Think about it. You'd be some big yuppie lawyer with a nice car and a white picket fence." 

"Not what I'd wish for." 

"Seriously?" 

"It's too late to go back to our own lives, Dean. I'm not that guy anymore." 

"So what would you wish for?" Alex asked, tipping her head to one side. 

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "What would Sammy wish for." 

"Lilith's head on a plate. Bloody." 

"Okay." Dean looked slightly disconcerted. He turned back to the fountain. "Hey. What's this?" 

Alex leaned over him to see what it was. It looked like an old coin, but it refused to move when Dean tried to pick it up. 

"Some kind of old coin." Sam stated what everyone knew. "But I don't recognize the markings." 

"Babylonian," Alex insisted, figuring this was the coin they were looking for.

"It's possible."

Dean tried to move it again. "Damn," he hissed, making no progress. 

"Lift with your legs," Sam suggested. 

Dean glared at him. "Is this little mother welded on there? Huh. We're going to need bigger guns. Stay here." 

He came back a minute later holding a hammer and a crowbar, a green bag slung around his shoulder. He handed the hammer to Sam and tried to pry the coin away with the crowbar. 

"Hey hey hey!" the manager exclaimed, hurrying over. "You're going to break my fountain!"

"Sir, I don't want to slap you with a 44/16, but I will," Sam warned. The manager stepped back, letting Dean through. "All right. Thanks." 

"Let me see that hammer. I got an idea." Dean put the crowbar next to the coin, using the hammer to try and budge it. He hit the crowbar hard. The coin didn't move. But the hammer broke.

"Ho!" the waiter cried in surprise as the head of the hammer's head flew backwards. 

"Damn." Dean held up the cracked wooden handle.

"Coin's magical," Sam deduced. 

"No shit, Sherlock," Alex muttered, ignoring the glare.

"I think it's hoodoo that's protecting the well. I don't think we can destroy it."

Sam knelt down beside his brother, pulling out a piece of paper. He took a pencil out of his jacket and quickly traced the coin onto it. Then he handed it to Dean. "All right. Here. You got to look into this." 

"Where are you going?" 

"Something just occurred to me. Give me the keys." Dean did, and Sam quickly left. 

Dean stood up and cleared his throat. "Uh, everything looks in order here. I'd say it's, uh, safe to reopen. We'll be back for another inspection if we find it necessary. Thank you for your time." He gathered up his tools and they left. 

The manager stared after them. "What about the rats?" 

 

 **T** hey hurried across the street and down a few blocks to the Concrete Library. Dean led her towards the computers, pulling out the paper Sam had given him. "Babylonian, you say? Here. See what you can find. I'll go look for books." 

"Okay." Alex watched him walk off. "But stay on track," she called after him, ignoring the agitated hushes she got. She turned to the computer, opening the internet. After a moment's pause, she began. _Babylonian coins snakes,_ she typed into the search bar. Several pages popped up, many were collector's archives. She began scrolling through there. Nothing matched exactly what she was looking for, and she tried another page. Still nothing. She went back to the search bar and deleted the word _coins_. Enter. A wikipedia page. Tiamat, the Babylonian dragon god. She clicked on it. Hmm. 

Dean came back. "Find anything?" he asked, making Alex jump. 

She turned to him. "Uh, yeah. I tried looking up Babylonian coins with snakes. Didn't find any matches. So I looked up Babylonian snakes. This led to me to Tiamat, the snake/dragon goddess of primordial chaos. Apparently she was also the goddess of the ocen, and died when she was cut in half. One half became the sky, the other the earth."

Dean grunted in half-interest. "So is this the chick on the coin?" 

"Not sure. I was just about to figure that out. You find anything?" 

"Not really." Dean sat down at the computer next to her. "You see if it's her on the coin; I'll look around, see what else I can find." 

Alex nodded, clicking back to the main page. Clearing the search bar, she typed in, _Babylonian coin Tiamat_. Enter. Immediately she found what she was looking for. "Dean." 

"Hm?" 

"This is it." Alex clicked on the picture. "Ancient Babylonian accursed coin." 

"Hm." Dean got up and walked farther into the library. Alex kept searching the internet. A few minutes later Dean came back, face taking on a strange expression. "Let's go." He handed her several sheets of paper which he had seemingly photocopied. 

Alex took them, watching the hunter. "Uh, Dean. Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, uh, yeah. Let's just get back to the motel." Dean started at a hurried pace out of there, and Alex had no choice but to follow. 

 

 **A** little while later Dean slowed, face back to normal. Alex caught up to him, and they kept walking. 

"You better run!" she heard, and turned towards the sound of the voice. It was the boy whom they had seen being chased. However, now he was the one doing the chasing. The boy stopped, turning to face Alex and Dean. "You got a problem, mister?" he challenged. 

"Uh, no." Dean shook his head, watching the kid run off. He put a hand over his stomach. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Alex repeated. 

"Yeah. I'm fine. I, uh, just don't feel that good, okay?" Dean hurried off towards the motel. 

 

 **T** hey walked into the motel. Dean hung his jacket on the coat hanger and pulled out his laptop. He had only been on there a minute or two before he hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Alex heard a retching noise, and screwed up her face. She walked over to the bed, looking at the computer screen. It was the website he had been looking for at the library. She got up and walked over to the bathroom door, raising her hand to knock. Then, she paused, thinking better of it. The retching stopped. "You okay in there, Dean?" 

"Yeah." Dean's voice sounded strained. "I think I'm--" he was cut off as he vomited once more.

"That's what you get for eating that sandwich." 

"What the hell do you mean?" 

"I told you the wishes go bad, didn't I?" Come to think of it, Alex couldn't remember if she had or not. When something heavy was thrown at the door, she figured she probably hadn't. She slowly back away and flicked on the tv. "Sorry," she called. Something else hit the door in response.

 

 **F** ive minutes later the motel door opened and Sam stepped through. He looked at Alex, then turned towards the bathroom. Alex could here Dean retching again. "Dean?" Sam called. "You all right?" 

"The wishes turn bad, Sam." Dean's voice still sounded strained. "Very bad." 

"The sandwich, huh?" Sam seemed amused. 

The toilet was flushed and the door opened. Dean stepped through, wiping his mouth with a small washcloth. "The coin was Babylonian," he confirmed. "It's cursed. Alex figured out it was Tiamat on the coin, the Babylonian goddess of primordial chaos." He turned back to the bathroom, gagging. "I'm good, I'm good. I, uh, found some fragments of a legend. I guess the priests were working some serious black magic."

"They made the coin?" 

"Yeah, to, uh, sow the seeds of chaos. Whoever tosses the coin into a wishing well, makes a wish, it turns the well on. Then it grants wishes to all comers." 

"But the wishes get twisted." Sam nodded in understanding. "You wish for a talking teddy,"

"You get a bipolar nut job."

"And you get E. coli." 

Dean glared at Alex, and Sam followed his gaze. "What?" 

Alex shot him a sorry look. "I thought I had told you," she began. 

"Told us what?" Sam furrowed his brow in confusion. 

"She knew the wishes turned bad." 

"I thought I told you," Alex repeated. "Seriously. Would I do that to you on purpose?" 

"You let me go to Hell."

"You came back!" Alex threw her head back in exasperation. "I told you. I'm sorry, okay? I'm only trying to help." 

Dean let out a disbelieving snort. He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer can. Sam sat down on the bed next to Alex, taking his laptop. He studied the webpage about the coin along with the papers Dean had copied. 

"Anything else?" Sam asked, looking through the pages.

Dean sat down on the bed across from them, cracking open the beer. "Yeah. This thing has turned more than than one town upside down over the centuries. It's even wiped a few off the map. I mean, when one person gets their wish, it's trouble. When everyone gets their wish . . ." 

"It's chaos," Sam finished. 

"Mm-hmm." 

"Any way to stop it?" 

"Yeah. One way. We got to find the first wisher. Whoever dropped the coin in and made the first wish, they're only one who can pull it out back out again and reverse the wishes. So,or now, we got a couple of nut-so dreams come true, but once the word gets out about the well, things are just going to get crazier and crazier." 

Sam glanced at Alex. She shrugged, glancing out the window. The sun was already setting. She sighed. 

"I'm, uh, I think I'm going to hit the hay," Dean announced, standing up. 

Sam obliged, taking his laptop. "I'll look into this farther." He moved over to the desk against the far wall. 

"I think I'll sleep too." Alex quickly changed into sweatpants and a shirt. Coming back out, she saw that Dean had taken the bed she had been sitting on. He was laying above the covers, still fully dressed. Alex slid under the covers of the other bed, uncomfortably falling into a sleep. 

 

 **D** ean managed to sleep for most of the night. Alex woke up when the sun came up. She looked over to see him twitching in his sleep, undoubtably having a nightmare. Sam had turned as well, watching his brother. "No, no," Dean murmured in his sleep. 

Sam shook his head. "Dean? Dean. Wake up!" 

"What, what?" Dean snapped open his eyes. "I'm up. What?" He sat up, glancing over at his brother. 

"Sleep well?" Sam asked pointedly. 

"Yeah." Dean didn't turn around, but reached down. He picked up a whiskey bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. "Tan, rested, and ready." He took another gulp. 

"Dean, come on, man. You think I can't see it?" 

"See what?" 

"The nightmares, the drinking. I'm with you 24/7. I know something's going on." 

"Sam, please." 

"Uriel wasn't lying, but you are. You remember Hell, don't you?" 

"What do you want from me, huh?" Dean finally turned around. "What?" 

"The truth, Dean. I mean, I'm your brother. I just wish you'd talk to me." 

"Careful what you wish for," Dean joked, trying to lighten the mood. He got up, grabbing yesterday's paper from the table.

"Cute." 

"Come on, can we stow the couple's therapy, huh? We're on a job. I want to work. What you got?" When Sam sighed, Dean pouted. "Please?" 

Sam turned back to his laptop. Alex sat up. Dean ignored her. 

"We got teddy bear, uh, lottery guy, invisible pervert guy."

"And Audrey's parents," Alex added. 

"And them. They all must have wished sometime within the last two weeks. But who wished first, and how are we suppose to know who wished for what when?" 

"Well, it helps if they announce it in the paper." Dean folded the newspaper and put it down in front of Sam. "Goes back a month." Alex crawled out of bed, cast an uneasy glance at the totem statue in the corner -- the motel's theme seemed to be tiki totems -- and walked over to them, glancing down. 

"Wesley Mondale and Ms. Hope Lynn Casey have announce their surprise engagement," Sam read. 

"Ah, true love," Dean joked. 

Sam just shrugged. "Best lead we got." He turned back to his laptop. Dean grabbed his bag off the floor and disappeared into the bathroom. 

He came back out redressed. "You got an address?" When Sam nodded, he nodded as well. "Okay. Alex, we'll be back in a little while. Hopefully we'll have this wrapped up by lunch." He shot her a charming smile. He and Sam stood up to leave. 

Alex watched them go disappointedly. She fell back on the bed. She had to admit she shouldn't have expected them to let her go anyways. _I mean, what do I know?_ she thought. _They can figure it out from here. I'd probably just mess things up. Like always._ She turned on Disney channel. 

Her stomach growled, and Alex placed a hand over it, frowning. Of course they would run off before they fed her breakfast. She shook her head, groaning as she stood up. She pulled Dean's bag closer, rifling through it. Nothing. She checked all his pockets. Three phone numbers -- undoubtably from girls -- but no money. She checked Sam's backpack. One dollar and twenty cents. That wouldn't by her anything satisfactory. She sat back down on the bed. 

 

 **D** ean came back around 11. He stopped, looking around. "Dude. Why didn't you pack our stuff? I told you we were leaving after lunch." 

"No, you told me you'd hopefully have the case done by lunch. I'm not your servant, Dean." Alex glared up at him. "And I haven't had breakfast yet. I'm starving." As if in agreement, her stomach let out a loud growl. 

"Then why didn't you get some yourself?" 

"I couldn't find any money." Alex let out a long breath, trying to calm down. "Where's Sam?" 

"He's, uh, down at the pier." Dean walked in, sitting down on the bed next to her. "So, uh, you seriously haven't eaten?" 

"Not since last night." Alex sighed, running her hand through her hair. "So, uh, can we stop for lunch somewhere?" She glanced down at the floor. "I'll, uh, start packing up, I guess." She knelt down, pulling open the dresser and pulling out the clothes. 

"No, uh, uh, it's fine." Dean knelt down beside her, pulling his bag close. "Uh, you go pack up Sam's research and crap, and, uh, I'll take care of this, okay? Then we'll go get some grub." 

Alex nodded in agreement and stood up, walking over to the desk. 

 

 **F** ive minutes later they were packed and on the road. Dean parked the Impala by the pier. He got out, leaning against the door. Alex did the same.

Dean pulled out the newspaper he had gotten in the motel office while checking out, scanning over the headlines. Alex stared out over the lake, lost in her thoughts. She saw Sam approach, and she gave a small nod. 

"Coin's melted down," he informed them. "It shouldn't cause anymore problems." 

"Audrey's parents are back from Bali." Dean motioned to where Audrey was walking along the lake, a young man and a woman by her side. "Looks like all the wishes are gone. And so are we." He circled around and opened the driver's door, then stopped. "Hang on a second." 

"What?"

Dean motioned for Alex to get in the car. She did, but strained her ears to hear what he was saying. "You were right." Dean shut the door, making it harder to hear.

"About what?" Sam sounded confused. 

"I shouldn't lie to you. I do remember everything that happened to me in the Pit. Everything." 

"So tell me about it." 

"No." When Sam started to protest, Dean cut him off. "I won't lie anymore. But I won't talk about it." 

"Dean, look, you can't just shoulder this thing alone. You got to let me help."

"How? Do you really think that a little heart-to-heart, some sharing and caring is gonna change anything? Hmm? Somehow heal me? I'm not talking about a bad day here." 

"I know that." 

"The things that I saw . . . there aren't words. There's no forgetting. Because it's right here. Forever. You won't understand. And I could never make you understand. So I'm sorry." He got in to the car, ending the conversation. Alex sat quietly as Sam got in, and they drove off. 

 

 **T** he car ride was mostly silent. They stopped for lunch right outside of town and continued on. They drove all day, and Alex lay in the backseat, bored. They ran through Dean's cassettes at least twice before turning them off, driving in silence. 

 

 **S** ometime late that night they pulled into a motel. Dean checked them into a room, and Alex collapsed on the bed, tired from her day of doing nothing. Sam was at the table, laptop already open. Dean cracked into the six pack they had picked up at the gas station a few miles back. 

 

 **S** he exactly sure, but at some point, she must have drifted off because when she woke, the grey sky was looking lighter. Sam was on the other bed, sleeping lightly. It sounded like Dean was in the bathroom. Alex reached for the tv remote, glancing at the clock. It was sometime after 6am. She turned on Disney. The bathroom door opened and Dean stepped out. "Disney?" 

"Yeah." Alex watched the show.

"Mickey Mouse Clubhouse?" Dean sat down on the bed across from her. 

"Yeah." Alex glanced at him. "You've seen it?"

Dean glanced downwards, and said nothing.

"I love this show," Alex admitted after a moment's pause. 

"Me too." Dean shifted, crossing his legs. 

 

 **T** hey were back on the road as soon as Sam woke up. They ate breakfast at a McDonalds, which wasn't as bad as Alex had expected. They drove for another four hours before Dean spoke. "Where was that possible werewolf sighting?" 

"Uh, Michigan." Sam looked down at the sheet of paper he had in front of him. "By Lake Superior."

"Hm." 

"Hang on. This is the way to Bobby's." Alex sat up in her seat. 

"Yep." Dean continued driving. 

"Why?" 

"Because we're dropping you off." 

"Dean." Alex fell back into her seat, exasperated. 

"What?" Dean glanced back at her. 

"Why?" 

"Because you could get hurt." 

"So could you! I can _help_." Alex sighed. "Why do I have to stay with Bobby?" 

"Because he's your family." 

"You're my family!" 

"No, we're not."

Alex fell silent, crushed. "Fine." She held back tears, feeling stupid for wanting to cry. "Whatever." 

 

**Sioux Fall, South Dakota**

**D** ean pulled the car into the Salvage Yard, and Alex got out, resisting slamming the door behind her. She got out her stuff and dejectedly headed towards the door, desperately trying not to let it show. Dean honked the horn, and Alex glanced back to see him wave. She let out a huff, rolling her eyes before turning away. She pushed her way through the back door and entered the house. "Bobby?" she called. No answer. "Bobby? You home?" 

Still nothing. Alex tossed her bag to the side, quickly searching the house. It was empty. She pulled out her phone, dialing Bobby's cell. "Hello?" 

"Hey. It's Alex." 

"Alex? What's up, girl?" 

"Uh, nothing. Sam and Dean dropped me off at your place but, uh, you don't seem to be here."

The other end was silent for a second. "Yeah, I'm in Colorado. What do you mean they just dropped you off at my place?" 

"I mean we drove here, I got out, and they drove away." Alex shrugged. "Don't worry, Bobby. I'm fine." 

"Hm. Yeah, I'll be home sometime tonight. Garth should be around covering the phones. Make yourself comfortable." 

"Okay." Alex hung up. Somehow she had wandered into the kitchen, so she tossed her phone on the counter. A ringing sound filled the air. She turned towards the line of phones on the wall. After a slight hesitation, she answered the phone marked: _FBI. Tom Willis._ "Hedrick. FBI."

"Hello. This is Sheriff Anderson from Rome, Ohio. I'm here with an Agent Rollins and Graves." 

Alex flipped through the folder labelled FBI, finding both Rollins and Graves. It was Felix and Oscar. "Hm. Some of our best agents. And?"

"So they are yours?" 

"Or course they are." Alex looked up as Garth approached, shotgun in hand. Seeing Alex, he lowered it, nodding. Alex nodded back.

"I'm sorry. You're not the same person." 

"Hm?" 

"I called this number two days ago," a man answered. "I talked to a man."

"Agent Willis is busy," Alex informed the man. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" 

Sheriff Anderson picked up on the sharpness in her voice. "No. Thank you." He hung up, and so did Alex.


	10. I Know What You Did Last Summer

**December 2nd,**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**T** hree weeks passed. Then Dean called. "Alex? Do you know anything about an Anna Milton?" 

Alex threw her feet up onto the table, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe. Why you ask?" 

"Because we've got a case. Apparently there's a lot of big, badass demons after her because she knows something." 

"Something like that." Alex yawned. 

"So you know about her?" 

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't." Alex removed her feet from the table when Bobby walked in, casting her a knowing glance. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and left. 

"Alex." 

"What?" 

"If you know something, you have to tell us." 

"I don't have to tell you anything." Alex leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Yeah, I wanted to help. But you've shown that you don't want it." She hung up. 

The phone ran again, and Alex sighed. She answered. "Anna Milton. The demons want her 'cause she can hear the angels. She has red hair." She decided to leave out the 'actual angel' part. 

"Oh." Dean seemed shocked. "Okay. Thanks." 

"Whatever." Alex sighed, rolling her eyes. 

"Uh, listen." Dean cleared his throat. "I, uh, I'm sorry about dropping you off with Bobby . . ." 

"At Bobby's," Alex corrected, putting her chin in her free hand to study the wall. "Bobby was out on a case. Garth was here, though. Strange guy." 

"Oh. But still." 

"Whatever. It doesn't matter, okay? I wouldn't want to work with me either." 

"Alex . . ." Dean groaned. 

"I'm serious, Dean. I get it. I'm a pain in the ass. Hell, I even annoy myself sometimes." Alex stood up, walking to the fridge. "Now. You better go find Anna before Alistair does." 

"Alistair?" That stopped Dean. "He's after her?" 

"Assuming so. You said big, badass demons. He's definitely high up on the big badass demon list." Alex shrugged, pulling out a Coke. She cracked it open, balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear. "Just be careful around him, okay? You know what he's capable of doing more than me, of course, but still. Call if there's anything else." Then she hung up. 

 

 **I** t was sometime the next afternoon when there was a knock at the door. When Bobby didn't go to answer it, Alex sighed, standing up. "I'll get it," she yelled to no one in particular. She opened the door, and couldn't help but stop in surprise. "Dean?" 

"Yeah." Dean stepped into the room. 

"You guys should be hunting down Anna. What are you doing here?" 

"You said you knew Anna." Dean looked at her. "Whatcha got there?"

"Yeah, I know _of_ her. The big stuff, at least." Alex looked down at the mixing bowl in her hand. "Butter and sugar.I was making cookies, for, ya know, Christmas and all." She dipped a finger in the bowl. "But I got distracted." She stuck the finger in her mouth. "Want some?"

Dean shook his head. "Uh, yeah, no thanks. You know Alistair." 

"Yep." Alex cocked her head in confusion. "Seriously. What are you doing here? You're wasting time." 

Dean's next question caught her off guard. "Do you want to come?" 

"What?"

"You heard me. You know what's going on. You're the biggest asset we have right now. Do you want in or not." 

"Uh, sure, I guess. I -- I'll get my stuff." Alex hurried up the stairs and into her room. She quickly threw what little clothes she had into a bag, zipping it close. When she got downstairs, Bobby was there too. "Um, okay. See you around there, Bobby. I guess." She shot Bobby a small smile before following Dean. 

"Be careful," Bobby warned. Alex waved to show she had heard. 

She threw her bag in the backseat and climbed in after it. "Hey Sam." 

"Hey." Sam turned around to look at her. "How's it going?" 

"Good, I guess. Everything alright with you?" 

"Yeah." The conversation died. Dean drove off. 

 

Cambridge, Ohio 

**I** t was two days later. Dean pulled the Impala into a sketchy-looking motel. He went to check them in, and Sam got out as well. Alex followed, watching him circle around to the trunk. He opened it, pulling out their bags. Alex got hers out of the backseat as Dean returned. He led them to their room, flicking on the lights. Alex let out a grunt. Not that bad. 

"Okay." Dean took his bag from Sam and tossed it on the far bed. "Me and Sammy are going to head into town and check out this Conner Beverly Behavioral Center thing. Then we'll hit the Milton's home. You stay here." 

Alex dropped her duffle on the ground. "I can help, Dean." 

"I know. But we're going as FBI. We don't need you screwing this up." 

"Then let me go talk to the Milton's," Alex suggested. "I have my own ID's. It would be faster, and if it doesn't work out, you guys can talk to them." Seeing the doubt on their faces, she added, "I just have to ask them if they've seen their daughter. It's not rocket science." 

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Then Dean let out a grunt. "Fine. Just don't mess it up, okay?" 

"Okay. I can just walk. You said it was only a five minute drive from here," she added to Sam. "That's not a very long walk. Half hour or so." 

"Yeah." Sam handed her directions. 

Sam and Dean quickly changed into suits and ties, and Alex dug into her bag, pulling out small ziplock bag. "Hey," she asked Dean, who was sitting on the bed. "What ID should I use?" 

"I'd go something small," Dean told her. "What do you have?" 

"Everything." Alex started flipping through her badges. "FBI, CDC, CIA, Health Department, Sheriff Department, Federal Marshal, Homeland Security . . ."

"Go with Sheriff's Department," Dean suggested. "You won't get in too much trouble with that. And if you do get caught, me and Sammy can bail you out." 

"Who says we'll want to?" Sam stepped out of the bathroom, tightening his tie. Dean chuckled, and Alex shot him a light-hearted glare, pulling her gun out of her bag. 

"Whatever. I'll be off." Alex headed towards the door, grabbing a heavy jacket. The sun was bright, but the December air was more than chilly. She pulled it tighter, flipping up the collar to protect her ears. She glanced down at the directions in her hand. 

 

 **I** t was a half hour walk. Alex found herself in front of a nice house. She looked down at the paper. 1568 Vermont Drive. Yep. She felt her inside pocket for the badge. It was there. She walked up the steps, hesitating before knocking on the door. "Hello?" 

No answer. 

"Hello? Mr. and Mrs. Milton? I'm with the Police Department." 

Still no answer. Alex frowned, looking around. Two white cars sat in the driveway, telling her they were most likely home. She cautiously tried the doorknob. The door swung open. Alex let out a breath. "Mr. And Mrs. Milton?" she called again, stepping inside. "I just have a few questions." 

Nothing. "Hello?" The word died in her throat. Her eyes were fixed on something laying beyond the dining room table. Her hand immediately went to her gun underneath her jacket. She approached. Two bodies lay on the ground. Blood pooled around their heads, their throats slit wide open. Dead. Quite dead. 

Alex ran a hand through her blonde hair, grey-blue eyes flickering around the room to take everything in. She reached for her phone and dialed Dean's number. While it rang, she quickly checked the rest of the house. Then she returned to the bodies. "Hello?" 

"Ale--uh, Agent Rowe?" Dean's voice came over the phone, sharp with agitation. "This better be important." 

"Uh, yeah, _Agent_. I'm at the Milton's, but, uh . . . What's the protocol for dead bodies?" 

Dean inhaled sharply. "Hold on." Alex heard him talking to Sam. She half-heartedly listened, studying the bodies. Maybe Dean would be proud of her if she could figure out what killed them. Noticing something, she knelt down. A small, yellowish powder lay on the floor. She poked it with a finger, then gave it a sniff. Sulphur. 

"Alex? You still there?"

"Yeah." Alex turned back to the phone. 

"Okay. Whatcha got?" 

"Two bodies, male and female, presumably Mr. and Mrs. Milton. Throats slit. Most likely bled to death. There's sulphur on the ground. Meaning the demons got here first. I checked the house. They're gone." 

Dean let out an angry breath. "And what if they hadn't been gone?" 

"Dunno. I probably would have done something clever," Alex snapped. Then she immediately rebuked herself for getting angry. "What would you have done? Out of curiosity?" 

"Hm?" 

Alex sighed. "Never mind. What should I do?" 

"Just hold tight. Close the door. We'll be there in ten minutes." 

"K." Alex hung up and ran a hand down her freckled face. On a second thought, she headed into the kitchen. She covered her hands with her jacket sleeves to rifle through the cabinets, careful not to leave any fingerprints behind. She found a box of iodized salt and quickly lined every window and door on that floor. Finally, she put a line at the top of the stairs, securing herself from any returning demons. Then she sat on the stairs, waiting. 

 

 **F** ive minutes later, the door opened. Sam and Dean stepped through, guns in hand. Alex lowered hers, flicking on the safety. "About time." 

"You put down salt," Sam observed. 

"Yeah. Didn't want any demons coming back." Alex shrugged, holding out her gun. "All I have is this, and it's useless. And don't worry. I didn't leave fingerprints in the kitchen. They should only be on the door and the salt box." 

Dean grunted in acknowledgement. "So, demons, huh?" 

"Yeah. What did you guys find on Anna?" 

"Well, it definitely seems like you're right. It seems somehow she knows about the Rising of the Witnesses, the sixty-six seals. I'm not sure how. Maybe she's like you." 

Alex shook her head. " _Los sientos, mi amigo_. Anna's part of this world. And somehow she's tuned in to the angel radio."

"Angel radio. Nice term." 

Alex shrugged. "You guys came up with it. I'm just repeating it." When neither responded, Alex stood up. "So. What do we do with the Milton's?" 

"Uh, yeah. Let's just call the police." Dean walked over to the phone, gripping it with the sleeve of his jacket. He dialed a number, then set the phone carefully on the table. "Okay, let's go." 

However, Sam hesitated. "Hey. Look at this." Alex glanced at the picture he was holding. It was of the couple laying dead behind them. With them was a young girl with dyed red hair. They were standing in front of a church building with a beautiful stain glass window behind them. 

"Come on, Sammy. We're in a bit of a rush," Dean said impatiently. 

"Do you still have those sketches from Anna's notebook?" 

"Yeah. They're in the car. Let's go." Dean let Sam and Alex out first, then carefully wiped the doorknob clean. "Okay. In the car." 

Dean drove away. "Okay. Alex. Any idea where Anna is?"

"Nope. Sorry." 

"Hm. Great. So, I'm 'Girl, Interrupted,' and I know the score of the apocalypse, just busted out of the nut-box . . . where would I go?"

"Here." Sam pointed to something, and Alex leaned over the bench seat to see It appeared to be some sort of sketchbook. Inside that book, however, was the same stained glass window as the one in the picture. 

"She was drawing the window of her church," Alex breathed. 

"Over and over," Sam added. "If you were religious, scared, and had demons on your ass, where would you feel safe?" 

"So. Off to the church. Any idea where it is?" 

Dean shook his head. "Probably somewhere close. I doubt the deacon lives very far from his own church." 

"Her dad was the church deacon?" 

"Yep." 

"Hm. Anything else I should know about her?"

"Uh, it started around around three months ago." 

Alex counted back on her fingers. "So it started in September. Probably when you were pulled out of Hell by Cassie. 'Dean Winchester has been saved,' and all." Alex chuckled. 

Dean said nothing. He continued to drive. "There." He pointed to where a large steeple appeared above the tree line. "I bet that's it." 

 

 **H** e was right. Dean parked the car in front of the church. They got out and circled around to the trunk. "What do we need?" Alex asked. 

"Holy water." Dean handed her a flash. Alex took it. Sam and Dean both grabbed a flask of holy water. "Let's go." 

He led the way into the church. The first level was clean. Then they went up the stairs. Alex took up the rear, gun cocked. On the second floor was a small, darkened space. Rafters arched far above their head, and to their left was a stained glass window, casting colored light onto the floor. 

Suddenly Sam stopped. He motioned to a stained glass divider attached to a post. It had the picture of Mary on it. But that's not what caught Alex's eye. A shadow moved behind it, disappearing behind the wooden post. Sam put his gun away, and Dean and Alex followed suit. 

"Anna?" Sam called. "We're not going to hurt you. We're here to help. My name is Sam. This is my brother Dean. And, uh . . . there's Alex." 

"Sam?" a small voice asked. "Not Sam Winchester?" A young woman stepped out, cautiously watching them. She had dyed red hair, and was wearing jeans, a white blouse, and a green jacket. 

"Uh, yeah." Sam cast a glance at Dean. He was staring at Anna. 

"And you're Dean. The Dean." 

"Well, yeah," Dean stumbled, obviously somewhat captivated by the woman's beauty. "The Dean, I guess."

"It's really you." Anna took a small step forward. "Oh my God. The angels talk about you. You were in Hell, but Castiel pulled you out, and some of them think you can save us." She turned to Sam. "And some of them don't like you at all." 

Alex bit back a snicker, but a small sound still escaped her lips. Sam glared at her.

"And you're Alex?" 

"Uh, yeah."

"I've heard Castiel talk about you. Some of the angels want you dead." 

"Oh." Alex blinked back shock. "Uh, can I ask why?"

"I don't know. But they talk about all of you. I, I feel like I know you." 

"So, do you talk to them?" 

"No." Anna shook her head. No way. I, I just . . . overhear them. In my head. I doubt they even know I exist." 

"So over angel radio." Dean glanced down at Alex. She shrugged. "Can, can you hear them right now?" 

"No, not at this second. But a lot. And I can't block them out, there are so many of them." 

"Anna," Sam began, "do you remember when you started hearing them?" 

"Yes. September 18th." 

Dean nodded. "The day I got out of Hell." 

"First words I hear. Clear as a bell -- 'Dean Winchester is saved'." 

"Well, at least we know why the demons want you so bad," Dean sighed. "They get a hold of you, they can hear everything the other side is cooking. You're a 1-900-angel." 

Anna smiled, and Dean chuckled quietly. Alex just rolled her eyes. 

"Hey, um, do you know -- are my parent's okay?" 

Anna was cut off as feet rushed into the room. Alex turned, drawing her gun. 

"You got the girl." Ruby stood in front of them. "Good. Let's go." 

"Her face!" Anna cried, taking a step back. 

"It's okay. She's here to help." 

"Yeah, don't be to sure," Dean snapped to his brother. 

"We have to hurry," the demon insisted. 

"Why?" 

"Because a demon's coming -- big-timer. We can fight later, Dean." 

"Well, that's pretty convenient," the eldest hunter shot back. "Showing up right as we find the girl with a bigwig on your tail?" 

"I didn't bring him here. You did." 

"What?" 

"He followed you from the girl's house. We got to go." 

"Dean." Sam pointed to the statue of Mary behind them. It's eyes were bleeding. Alex pushed back a wave of shock at the sight.

"It's too late," Ruby breathed. "He's here." 

Sam suddenly grabbed Anna by the arm. He dragged her over to a small closet against the far wall, helping her inside. "Okay. Stay in there. Don't move." He closed the door. Alex just stared at the bleeding statue.

"Okay," Anna agreed. 

"No, Sam, you have to pull him right away," Ruby insisted. Alex turned to see that Sam had pulled out his flask of holy water. 

"Whoa." Dean stepped forward. "Hold on a sec." 

"Now's not the time to bellyache about Sam going darkside," Ruby snapped. "He does his thing, he exorcised that demon, or we die." 

Sam put the flask away. Alex stepped forward by Dean's side. Loud footsteps came up the stairs, getting closer by the second. The door flew open, and Alex jumped at the loud noise. She mentally cursed herself for doing so. A large man stepped through. Blue button down, black suit coat, receding hairline. He approached, dragging his hand across the banister. Then he looked down, casually wiping off the dust. 

Sam stretched out his right hand, closing his eyes. The man stopped, raising a hand to his throat. His eyes rolled up, revealing white eyes, different from the typical black-eyed demons. He coughed once, then twice, then his eyes returned to normal. "That tickles," the demon chuckled. "You don't have the juice to take me on, Sam." 

With a flick of his hand, he sent Sam flying towards him. Sam hit the banister and fell down the stairs. Dean pulled out Ruby's knife and launched himself at the demon. Alex, really unsure what to do, raised her gun, looking for a clear shot. Suddenly the demon was winning, and had Dean pinned against a wooden pillar, back to her. 

"Don't you recognize me, Dean?" he asked. "Oh -- I forgot. I'm wearing a pediatrician --" 

"Alistair." Alex spoke his name, drawing the demon's attention to her. 

His eyes danced across her. "Don't think I know you." 

"Ah, but I know you." Alex fired three shots into his forehead. Alistair let out a screech of pain, dropping Dean. He turned to Alex, who took a step back. Sam crawled back up the stairs. Alex raised her gun, taking several deep breaths to steady her hand. Fire flashed in the demon's eyes, and he raised his hand. 

Suddenly he stopped, doubling over in pain. The demon knife was sticking out of his back. Sam was standing behind him. Alistair let out a growl, reaching around to try and dislodge the knife. Sam helped Dean to his feet, looking for a way out, but they were cut off from the door by Alistair. Sam looked around, his eyes coming to rest on the stain glass window. He nudged Dean towards it, and they took off running. 

Alex shook her head as she realized their intent. "Oh hell no," she muttered. However, she followed. Sam and Dean leapt through the window, breaking the stained glass. Alex jumped after them. She was immediately pulled down towards the ground. Then she hit the concrete. Thankfully, she remembered to keep her knees bent, rolling with her shoulder as soon as she hit the ground. She sprawled out on her back, a sharp pain running up from her right ankle. Sam and Dean were already on their feet and walking towards the car. Alex was unable to move, the wind knocked out of her. She somehow managed to pull herself to her feet, stumbling after the Winchesters.

By the time she reached the car, she could put no weight on her injured leg. She collapsed in the backseat. Dean drove away. "Where's Anna?" she managed to ask. She wiped the back of her hand across her left eye only to see it was now stained with blood.

"Ruby." Dean growled the demon's name, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. 

"She'll protect her, Dean," Sam shot back, his tone too tired for arguing. 

Dean said nothing. 

 

 **T** hey were back in the motel ten minutes later. Alex limped into their room, pulling her useless foot behind her. She collapsed on the bed, tossing her gun on the nightstand. Dean was over by the sinks, washing the blood out of his cuts with only his right hand. Sam was sitting on the other bed. He was poking at a cut on his left arm. "I'm going to have to stitch it up," he muttered. He had brought in a small metal box, and pulled out a fishing hook and some thread. Alex closed her eyes, breathing through the pain. 

Sam let out pained breath. No one spoke. 

"Are you almost done?" Dean finally asked a few minutes later. 

"I'm going as fast as I can," Sam hissed. 

"Good, 'cause you know I've got a dislocated shoulder over here." Dean walked over, glancing at Alex. He picked up a whiskey bottle, taking a swig. "You okay, Alex?" 

"Just peachy," she muttered through clenched teeth. 

"I'll fix your shoulder when I'm done. Give me that." Sam took the bottle from Dean, pouring it over his arm. He let out another hiss, but said nothing. He put the fishing hook back in the metal box and stood up. 

Dean leaned over the bed, bracing himself. "So you lost the magic knife, huh?"

"Yeah, saving your ass. Who the hell was that demon?" 

"No one good. We got to find Anna." 

"Ruby's got her. I'm sure she's okay. All right? Come on. On the count of three." Sam placed his hands on either side of Dean's shoulder. "One --" He forced his shoulder back into place. 

Dean cried out in pain and surprise. He straightened up. "You sure about Ruby? 'Cause I think it's just as likely she used us to find radio girl and then brought that demon to kill us." 

Sam walked over to Alex. He sat down on the bed next to her. "No. She took Anna to save her life." He turned to the girl. "How are you feeling?" 

"I can't put any weight on my ankle. And my hands sting." 

"Let me see." Alex held them out, and Sam examined them. 

"Well, why hasn't she called to tell us where she is?" 

"Because that demon is probably watching us right now, waiting to follow us right back to Anna again. That's why he let us go." Sam ran light fingers over her hands. Alex flinched. "There's lots of small cuts," he told her. "Probably from landing on the glass. I can see a few slivers stuck in there." He stood up and walked into the bathroom.

"You call this letting us go?" Dean called after his brother. He started laying salt down on the doors and windows.

"Yeah, I do. Look, killing us would have been no problem for that thing." Sam filled a small bucket with warm water. "That's why, for now, we just got to lay low and wait for Ruby to contact us." 

"How's she going to do that?" Dean watched his brother carry the the bucket back over to Alex. He paused, then asked, "Why do you trust her so much?" 

"I told you, Dean. Put your hands in this." Alex did as he said, hissing the warm water seeping in to the small, crisscross cuts. 

"You got to do a whole lot better than that." When Sam turned, Dean took a swig of whiskey. "Look. I'm not trying to pick a fight. I mean, I really want to understand. But I need to know more. I mean, I deserve to know more." 

Sam let out a heavy sigh. "It's because she saved my life." Then he started to talk. He began with how Ruby had found him and saved his life, how she had taken an empty vessel, and how she had taught Sam how to exorcise demons. 

 

 **H** e kept talking even as the sun began to set, casting long shadows in the room. He explained how he had tried to exorcise the demons, but failed, then began to tell Dean how he and Ruby had sex. Alex awkwardly stared ahead. 

"Sam?" Dean interrupted.

"Yeah?" 

"Too much information." 

"Hey. I told you I was coming clean." 

"Still doesn't mean we needed to know that." Alex said, and Sam turned back to her. "Can I take my hands out of this now?" 

"Uh, yeah. Come over here." 

Alex did so, hopping over to Sam. He narrowed his eyes. "How's the ankle?" 

"Still can't put weight on it." Alex sat next to Sam, holding out her hands. He took the tweezers and started pulling out the glass shreds. Alex squared her jaw, studying her shoes. 

"Okay," Dean continued their conversation, "but apart from the brain-stabbing imagery . . . so far, all you've told me about is a manipulative bitch who, uh, screwed you, played mind games with you, and did everything in the book to get you to go bad."

"Yeah, well, there's more to the story." Sam roughly pulled out a glass splinter, and Alex hissed. 

"Just . . . skip the nudity, please." 

"Pretty soon after . . . that, uh . . . I put together some signs . . . omens." Sam continued his story. He had gone after Lilith, but Ruby had argued against it. They had fought, and Sam had stalked off, and hunted down the demon. However, it had turned out to be a trap. "But Ruby came back for me," Sam finished. "Whatever you have to say, she saved me. More than that, she got through to me." He finished pulling out the glass splinters and held out his hand. Dean gave him the whiskey bottle. "What she said to me, it's what you would have said. If it was for her, I wouldn't be here." He poured the whiskey over her hands and Alex let out a cry of pain. 

"Ow! A warning next time." 

Sam dropped her hands, looking up into her face. Alex flinched as he ran a finger above her left eye. "Hang on." He stood up and walked into the bathroom. When he returned, he was carrying a washcloth. He sat down and dipped it in the bucket of water before running it across her eyebrow. 

Alex felt the liquid trickle down her face, and she reached up to brush it away. Her hand came away red.

"Dammit, Sam, what did you do?" Dean stood up, eyes focused on her head.

"Nothing, okay?" Sam pressed the washcloth against her head. "It's deeper than I thought. Just, just get me dad's kit." 

Dean grabbed the metal box off of the bed and tossed it to Sam. 

"Lean back." Sam pushed her back onto the bed. 

"Why?" Alex watched him pull out a fishhook and some fishing line. "Aw hell no. You're not putting that anywhere near my eye."

"Shut up or I'll let you bleed to death," the younger Winchester shot back. "Close your eyes." 

 

Alex flinched as the fishing line pulled on her skin. "You almost --" Her words were cut off by a small yell as something burned the wound. She knew what it was. Whiskey. "Little warning next time," she grumbled as Sam got off of the bed. 

"Don't worry. Not every day's like this." Sam walked over to his brother. 

"Of course, you're not going on _every hunt_." Dean shook his head, turning to his brother "Dude, Bobby is going to _kill_ us," he muttered to his brother, almost too quiet for Alex to hear. "I mean, come on. He'd be pissed with just those cuts, but the ankle too?" 

"It's not that big a deal." Sam handed the whisky bottle back to his brother. 

"Yeah, right. You're not the one who got the 'you-hurt-her-and-you're-dead' speech." Dean crossed his arms. 

"I'm fine," Alex insisted. "Bobby's just being a butt." 

"He's a butt with a gun," Dean shot back. He took a drink.

"Maid," a woman called through the doors. 

"Not now!" Dean yelled. 

"Sir, I've got clean towels." 

Dean muttered a curse under his breath and opened the door. The maid forced her way in. "Couldn't you just leave them at the door?" Dean snapped. 

"I'm at this address." The maid handed a slip of folded paper to Dean. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Sam stood up, taking the paper from Dean. 

"Go now. Go through the bathroom window, don't stop, don't take your car, don't pass go. There are demons in the hallway and the parking lot."

"Ruby?" 

"Okay, yes, I'm possessing this maid for a hot minute. Sue me." Ruby rolled her eyes. 

"What about--" 

"Coma girl? Slowly rotting on the floor back at the cabin with Anna, so I've got to hurry back. See you when you get there. Go!" She dropped off the towels and left. 

"Let's go." Dean walked toward the bathroom. 

"Dean." Alex stopped him. "I can't. I can't even walk across the room, let alone across town!" 

"She's right, Dean. She can't come." 

"Well, she can't stay here." 

"Dean, just leave me, okay? I'll be fine." Alex dragged herself over to her bed. "The demons haven't come in yet, meaning they won't anytime soon. As long as they think you guys are still here, they'll stay waiting out there. Now hurry up and get your asses out of here." She flicked on the tv. 

"Okay, well, you're going to have to fix the salt line in the bathroom." 

"I think I can manage that." Alex watched them go. When the bathroom was quiet, she limped in, fixing the salt line. Then she sat back down on her bed, grabbing the near empty whiskey bottle. She sniffed it, curling her lip. It smelled disgusting. However, the stinging in her hands and head and the sharp pain in her ankle encouraged her to take a sip. She immediately recoiled, but swallowed anyways. She continued to slowly drink it. It burned like fire inside her, but almost had an earthy taste to it. But it could be worse. 

By the time she had finished the bottle her limbs were tingling, and she felt slightly lightheaded. She tossed the bottle onto the other bed, reclining against the soft pillows. The pain in her hands and ankle had nearly faded to a comfortable level. She continued to watch tv. 

 

 **H** alf an hour later, her phone rang. "Hello." 

"It's Dean." 

"Yup." 

"Listen. I'm going to take Anna back to Bobby's, okay? Sam's going to stay behind and bring you and Baby sometime tomorrow. Turn out the lights, make the demons think you're gone." 

"Kay." Alex nodded in understanding. "Will do." 

 

 **T** he sun was coming up. Alex sat up, still tired. She had gotten very little sleep, and struggled to her feet. She let out a cry of pain, having forgotten about her injured ankle. She pulled herself across the room, looking out the window. There was only one demon that she could see. Her phone rang. It was Sam. "Is the coast clear?"

"I see one demon. The rest are gone." 

"Hm. Good work. I'll take care of that one." 

As Alex watched, the black smoke poured out of the demon's mouth, and he collapsed. Sam hurried over to the motel room, and Alex unlocked the door. She collapsed on the chair. 

"Okay." Sam grabbed his bag, which remained unopened from this morning. "How are you doing?" He glanced over at the empty whiskey bottle, then picked it up, frowning. "I thought Dean had left some." 

"Sorry." Alex dragged herself over to the other bed, grabbing her bag. "The pain was bad." 

Sam just grunted. 

"I'm doing okay now," Alex continued. 

"Good. 'Cause we have to go. Now." Sam grabbed his and Dean's stuff. They quickly cleared the room and left. Alex trailed behind, reaching the car last. She pulled herself into the backseat, casting a wary glance at the man behind the wheel. Sam peeled out, driving away. 

 

"What'd I miss?" 

"Hm?"

"What'd I miss? Last night?" 

"There were angels." 

Alex let out a frustrated noise. "Cassie?" 

"Yeah. Castiel and Uriel." 

"Wonderful. I bet that ended well." 

"Anna sent them away with some sort of blood sigil thing." 

"Was it the circle thing with the triangle on top and the sort of zig-zaggy line in the middle with six symbols around it?" 

"Yeah." Sam seemed surprised. "How did you know?" 

"That's an angel banishing sigil. Only angels know that. So what happened to you?" Alex leaned forward, wiping dried blood off of Sam's face. "Pick another fight?" 

"Uriel." 

"Oh." Alex fell back in her seat. "What did that winged dick want?" 

"They wanted Anna. Dead." 

"Oh. Okay." They lapsed into silence. 

 

 **I** t was a two day drive back to Bobby's. Sam had immobilized Alex's ankle using motel towels and duct tape. It still hurt, but to a much less degree now that she was staying off of it. 

 

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**S** am helped her out of the car and into the dilapidated old house. "Bobby?" he called. 

No answer. Sam walked over to the basement stairs. "Hey, Dean!" he yelled down them. 

A few seconds later Dean appeared in the study. "How's the car?" 

"I got her. She's fine." 

"I'm fine, too," Alex called from the couch. 

"Where's Bobby?" Sam asked. 

"Uh, the Dominican. He said we break anything, we buy it."

"He's working a job?" 

"God, I hope so. Otherwise, he's at hedonism in a banana hammock and a trucker cap." 

Sam screwed up his face. "Now that's seared in my brain." 

"All right, what did you find on Anna?" 

"Uh, not much. Her parents were, uh, Rich and Amy Milton. A deacon and a housewife." Sam opened a brown folder, laying it on the desk.

"Riveting." 

"Yeah. But there's something else in the report. Turns out the latest psych episode wasn't her first." 

"No?" 

"Yeah. When she was two and a half, she got hysterical anytime her dad got close. She was convinced he wasn't her real daddy."

"Who was? The plumber, hmm? A little snaking the pipes?"

Alex groaned in disgust, and Sam shook his head. "Dude, you're confusing reality with porn again." 

Alex laughed, but was silenced by Dean.

"Look," Sam continued. "Anna didn't say. She just kept repeating that this real father of hers was mad. Very mad. Like, wanted-to-kill-her mad." 

"Kind of heavy for a two year old." 

Alex let out a snort, and Dean turned to look at her. "You got a theory?" 

Alex looked up at him. "Course I got a theory. Are you going to believe it?" 

"Probably."

Alex blinked. "She's an angel." 

"A what?" Anna appeared from behind Dean. Her face seemed shocked and very, very emotional. Alex inwardly sighed out of frustration. She didn't feel like dealing with an emotional girl right now. 

"Nice job watching her," Dean said dryly. 

"I am watching her," Ruby replied, and Alex finally noticed her. 

"Wait. Sorry. I'm a what?" Anna's eyes were wide. When Alex didn't answer, she continued. "Listen. My parent's are dead, my whole life has been completely leveled . . . I deserve to know what I am!" 

"Fine. You're an angel, sweetheart." Alex leaned her head back against the couch, shifting so her ankle was elevated. "Is there something to drink around here? Preferably hard liquor." 

"No," Dean snapped. 

"Liar liar mom on fire," Alex snapped. Dean stiffened, but Alex was in too much pain to care. Sam stepped forward, fist balled, and punched her square in the face. Alex cried out as her nose cracked loudly. She bit back tears, gingerly touching her nose. It stung like hell. She pulled her hands away. Blood. 

"Don't talk about our mom that way," Sam growled, fist still balled. Alex raised her hand defensively, unsure if he would strike again. 

"Sam!" Dean distracted his brother. "Seriously? How you gonna explain that to Bobby?" However, he cast a dark look at Alex before turning back to Anna. "Is it possible you're an angel?" 

"I . . . I don't know." Anna looked at Alex, her voice shaking. "I mean, how's that even possible?" 

Alex didn't answer, but angrily studied the ground. She gingerly wiped the blood off of her face. 

"Look." Dean sighed. "We'll, uh, call around. There's a few people who should be able to help. Just, uh, hang tight, okay?" 

Anna nodded, and she and Ruby disappeared downstairs. Sam and Dean walked off into the kitchen, leaving Alex stranded on the couch. She threw her head back frustratedly. "Dean," she whined. "Come on, man. At least give me something." No response. "Please? Everything hurts." Alex lay down on the couch, burying her bruised face in the pillows. 

Then, someone was gently shaking her shoulder. Alex rolled over, groaning. She looked up to see Dean, and immediately struggled to sit up. "Here." Dean handed her a glass of a strong smelling golden liquid. "And, here." He put three aspirin in her other hand. "Enjoy." 

Alex popped the pills into her mouth, washing them down with the drink. She made a face, but kept it down. "Thanks." 

"Well, it seems like you've already been drinking," Dean said dryly, "so I guess I can't stop you." 

"I finished off one bottle of whiskey," Alex sighed, immediately going on the defense. "I was in pain, surrounded by demons all by myself, not to mention the nightmares --" 

"Yeah, whatever. How's the nose?" 

"Hurts." 

"Yeah. It's already pretty swollen." Dean reached up, gently feeling it. Alex let him, refusing to show pain. "Looks broken." He pulled away. "I'll get some icepacks, try and get the swelling down. It should heal on it's own without needing to be set."

"Great," Alex mumbled. "A broken ankle and a broken nose." 

Dean stood up, walking back into the kitchen. Alex continued sipping away at the scotch, flipping on the small black-and-white tv in the corner. 

 

 **I** t was sometime the next day. Dean had gone into town and had come back with an ankle brace. He had found crutches in the basement, and now Alex was semi-mobile. The front door opened, and two pairs of footsteps entered the house. Alex hauled herself to her feet as Dean and a women stepped into the room. 

"Pamela?" 

"Ah. Alex." 

"Uh, yeah. That's me." Alex hobbled over to her. Pamela was wearing sunglasses, hiding the fact that her eyes had been burned out. 

"What happened to you?" Pamela suddenly asked, her head turning towards her injured foot.

"I had to jump out of a church window. Not sure if it's broken, but, it hurts like hell. And, uh, Sam broke my nose."

Pamela clicked her tongue. "There's something about you, Alex. You're not what you seem." 

"Uh, yeah. Okay." 

Dean placed a hand on Pamela's shoulder. "We're downstairs." He led her farther into the house. Alex followed, crutches annoyingly loud and clumsy. 

"You've got to be careful with that one," Pamela said, motioning to Alex. "She's not as strong as you and your brother." 

Alex bit back a sharp reproach, and Dean glanced back at her. Seeing the anger on her face, he narrowed his eyes. 

"You can't fool me, Alex." Pamela continued. "You can fool them, and maybe yourself, but not me." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alex replied breezily. "I think you might underestimate me." 

Pamela laughed, ignoring her. "But don't you worry, Dean. She makes up for it with her mind. She's a clever one." 

Alex let out a satisfied noise, stepping onto the concrete floor of the basement. 

"We're here," Dean announced. 

"Pamela. Hey." Sam walked over to her.

"Sam?" 

"It's me," Sam nodded. "It's Sam." 

"Sam?" 

"Yeah." 

"Sam, is that you?" 

"I'm right here." Sam cast a confused glance at Dean. He shrugged. 

"Oh. You know how I can tell?" Pamela grabbed Sam's ass, and he jumped. "That perky little ass of yours. You could bounce a nickel off that thing." 

Alex bit back an awkward laugh. 

"Of course I know it's you, grumpy. Same way I know that's a demon and that poor girl's Anna and that you've been eyeing my rack." 

Sam blushed deeply. "Uh . . . uh," he stumbled. 

"Don't sweat it, kiddo. I've got more senses than most." 

"Got it." Sam still looked slightly embarrassed. 

"Hey, Anna. How are you? I'm Pamela." Pam held out her hand. 

Anna shook it. "Hi." 

"Dean told me what's been going on. I'm excited to help." 

"Oh, that's nice of you." 

"Oh, well, not really. Any chance I can dick over an angel, I'm taking it." 

Alex glanced at Dean, who shook his head slightly. He hadn't told Pamela of Alex's revelation. 

"Why?" Both Anna and Pamela seemed oblivious to them. 

"They took something from me." Pamela took off her sunglasses, and Anna stiffened. "Demon-y, I know. But they're just plastic. Good for business. Makes me look extra psychic, don't you think?" She laughed. "Now, how about you tell me what you're deal is? Hmm? Don't you worry." 

"Uh, yeah." Anna glanced at Alex. "Well, I, I started hearing the angels three months ago. The day Dean was pulled out of Hell. I've been hunted down by demons for the past week, and now apparently Alex thinks I'm an angel." 

Pamela turned. "Oh?" White, plastic eyes locked on Alex, and she suppressed a shiver. 

"Well, yeah." Alex shrugged innocently. "I mean, think about it. Not only can she hear angel radio, but she knows the angel banishing sigil. That's something only angels know." 

Pamela said nothing for several seconds. "Well, why don't we find out?" she finally suggested. "Anna, come with me. Here. Inside." She led the young girl into the panic room. Dean and Alex followed. Dean sat on the desk and Alex leaned against the wall, while Sam sat in the panic room's doorway. Ruby was forced to stay outside. 

"Now, lay down." Pamela sat down on a chair next to a cot. Anna did as asked. "Just relax, okay? Nice and relaxed. Now, I'm going to count down from five to zero. When we're at zero, you'll be put in a deep state of hypnosis. As I count down, just go deeper and deeper, okay? 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . Deep sleep, deep sleep." 

Anna's eyes closed, and her breathing slowed. Alex shifted on her crutches. 

"Deep sleep. Every muscle calm and relaxed. Can you hear me?" 

"I can hear you," Anna replied quietly, eyes still closed. 

"Now, Anna, tell me. How can you hear the angels? How do you work that spell?" 

"I don't know. I just did."

Pamela tried a different angle. "Your father. What's his name?" 

"Rich Milton." 

"All right. But I want you to look further back. When you were very young . . . just a couple years old." 

"I don't want to," Anna whimpered. Alex saw Sam stand up, stepping closer in interest.

"What's your dad's name? Your real dad's? Why is he angry at you?" 

"No. No. No!" Anna let out a scream, her back arching off the bed. "No!"

"Anna, you're safe." Pamela insisted over her screams. 

Suddenly the iron door slammed close, and the lights above them shattered. 

"Calm down," the psychic ordered. 

Anna kept screaming. "He's gonna kill me!" 

"It's all right, Anna." 

"Anna?" Dean approached again. 

"Dean," Pamela warned. "Don't." 

Suddenly Dean was thrown across the room. He hit the wall hard. 

Pamela had had enough. "Wake up in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1." 

Anna opened her eyes, sitting up. 

"Anna? Are you alright?" 

"Thank you, Pamela. That helped a lot." Anna was talking differently, and Alex knew she had been right all along. "I remember now." 

"Remember what?" Sam asked. 

"Who I am." Anna turned to Alex. "You were right. I am an angel." 

Dean glanced down at Alex, and she flashed him an, 'I told you so.' 

There was a loud knocking on the door. "Everything okay in there?" Ruby called. 

Sam glanced at Anna, then opened the iron door. Alex followed, limping along. She made her way up the stairs and into the study. She heard them follow. "Seriously?" she heard Ruby say. 

Anna replied in a low voice. 

"It's, just, oh, you know. Demons and angels have never gotten along," Ruby replied scathingly. 

"Don't be afraid. I'm not like the others." 

"I don't find that very reassuring." Ruby leaned against the doorway from the study to the kitchen. 

"Neither do I." Pamela leaned against Bobby's desk. Dean and Sam sat on either side of her. Alex sat on the arm of the black couch. 

"So . . . Castiel, Uriel, there the one's who came for me?" Anna turned to look at Dean. 

"You know them?" Sam asked. 

"We were kind of in the same foxhole."

"So, what, were they like your bosses or something?" Dean guessed. Alex let out a small huff. 

"Try the other way around." Anna crossed her arms. 

Dean let out a noise of approval.

"But now they want to kill you?" Pamela tipped her head, confused. 

"Orders are orders. I'm sure I have a death sentence on my head." 

Alex nodded in agreement. "Most likely." 

"Why?" Dean asked, looking at Alex. 

She took that as the right to respond. "Because she fell. Rebelled. Like Lucifer. Although, unlike Luci, she lost her grace." 

"Luci?"

"Lucifer." 

Dean narrowed his eyes at her casualness. He moved on. "Uh, okay. But what do you mean by grace?"

"Yeah. It's, uh, and correct me if I'm wrong, Anna, but it's an angel's life force. Kind of . . . the equivalent to a human soul, right?" 

Anna nodded. "How you know all this?" 

Alex shrugged, lying. "I talked with Castiel." Seeing Anna's face, she added. "He grows on you." 

"So, an angel can just lose it's grace and become human?" 

"It hurts," Anna responded. "Try cutting your kidney out with a butter knife. I ripped out my grace. Then I fell. My mother, Amy, couldn't get pregnant. Always called me her little miracle. She had no idea how right she was."

"So you just forgot you're God's little Power Ranger?" Dean asked. 

"The older I got, the longer I was human, yeah."

Ruby cleared her throat. "I don't think you all appreciate how completely screwed we are." 

"Ruby's right. Heaven wants me dead." 

"And Hell just wants you. A flesh-and-blood angel that you can question, torture -- that bleeds. Sister, you're the Stanley Cup. And sooner or later, Heaven or Hell, they're going to find you." 

"I know. And that's why I'm going to get it back." 

"What?" 

"My grace." Anna turned to Sam. 

Dean looked up at her. "You can do that?" 

"If I can find it." 

"So what, you're just going to take some divine bong hit, and Shazam, you're Roma Downy?"

"Something like that." 

"All right." Dean nodded his head appreciatively. "I like this plan. So, where's this grace of yours?" 

Anna shrugged. "Lost track. I was falling at about ten thousand miles an hour at the time." 

"Wait." Sam stood up off the desk. "You mean falling, like, literally?" 

"Yes." 

"Like, the way a human eye can see? Like, a comet, maybe? Or a meteor?" 

Anna nodded. "Why'd you ask?" 

"Just a hunch." Sam hurried off upstairs. 

They watched him go. "Well, if you don't mind," Pamela finally spoke. "I should get going now." 

"Uh, yeah." Dean walked into the kitchen. "I'll just grab the keys." 

Alex sighed, and Pamela turned to look at her. Alex studied her shoes. "Listen. Pamela. I'm, uh . . . I'm really sorry about the whole . . . eye thing. I should have saved you." 

Pamela shrugged. "Don't blame yourself. There's no way you could have known it was going to happen, right?" 

"Right," Alex reluctantly lied. She knew Pamela knew she was lying, but thankfully didn't press her. 

"Are you ready to go?" Dean reentered the room. Pamela nodded, and let Dean lead her out of the house. 

"So you know Castiel?" Alex turned at Anna's voice. She and Ruby were still watching her. 

Alex shifted, sitting up straighter. "Yeah. We've talked once or twice. Apparently he's taken over as commander and chief of your little garrison there."

Anna narrowed her eyes, thinking. 

Ruby yawned. "Well, if you're just going to talk angel talk, I think I'll go find Sam." She walked off towards the stairs. 

"Just keep it down," Alex called after her. Ruby flashed her a glare before disappearing up the stairs. When Alex turned her attention back to Anna, she was gone. Footsteps sounded down the hall, telling Alex which way she had gone. Sighing, Alex reached for her crutches, pulling herself to her feet. She limped over to the back door, pulling it open. 

"Alex." 

Alex turned. "Oh. Ruby. Hey." 

"Here." Ruby tossed Alex something. She reached out to catch it, forgetting about her crutches. She wobbled, falling back against the wall to stable herself. 

"Thanks," she muttered. "What is it?" 

"Hex bag. It'll hide you from angels and demons. Figured you'd need one, seeing how friendly you are with that one angel." 

Alex picked up her crutch. "We've talked, like, twice. And one of those times we fought." 

"Whatever." Then Ruby was gone. 

Alex stuffed the hex bag in her jacket, slamming the door closed. She grabbed a larger, thicker jacket off the hook that belonged to Bobby and slipped it on. Then she pulled on large boots over her feet. She reopened the door, walking out into the cold. It stung her broken nose, but she continued on. She trudged through the deepening snow, ignoring the awkwardness of the crutches and her leg dragging uselessly behind. She walked around. 

A bark caught her attention. She turned to see a small, long-hair tawny dog running towards her. It jumped around her, tail wagging. "Hey sweetheart." Alex reached down, scratching her behind the ears. 

"Mesha!" Alex heard Craig call. 

"Hey, Craig!" Alex called back. Craig was Bobby's neighbor. While not exactly a hunter, he knew enough about what Bobby did to be considered trustworthy. He had also opened his house to Alex when she had first arrived, telling her that she was always welcome to spend the night if need be.

The man approached, bundled up in a coat and mittens. "Alex. How are you?" 

"Good." 

"What happened to you?" 

Alex looked down at her crutches. "I broke my ankle," she admitted. "Nothing too bad." 

"Hm. That sucks."

"Alex!" Sam's voice ran through the cold. 

"What do you want?" Alex yelled back. 

"Get in here." 

Alex turned back to Craig. "Sorry. Got to go." 

"No problem. See you around?" 

"Yeah." Alex said goodbye to Mesha and hurried back towards the house. She stumbled back inside. "What?" 

"Come on. I need help." Sam walked into the study. 

Alex grumbled, taking off her jacket and tossing it over the railing. She dropped the boots in the middle of the hall, limping after Sam. 

She sat down on the couch, resting her crutches against the wall. "Whatcha doing?" 

"Anna said that an angel falling can be seen by the human eye, but it would appear as comets or meteors. So I'm looking for comet sightings nine months before Anna was born." 

"Hm." Alex fished out her phone. "Love to help, but, uh, Bobby called." She shook her phone for emphasis. "Maybe later though." Without waiting for a response, she picked up her crutches and hobbled upstairs. 

She lay down on her bed, flipping open her phone. She dialed Bobby's number. 

"What do you want?" Bobby's grumpy voice came over the phone. 

"Hello to you, too," Alex replied breezily, unfazed by his attitude. "So, the Dominican, huh?" 

"Yeah." 

"Lucky you. It's snowy and cold up here. I tried going for a walk. I never would have thought walking through deep snow with crutches would have been so hard." 

"What?" 

"I said -- "

"I heard you. What'd you mean by crutches?" 

"Eh," Alex shrugged. "Don't worry. I'll be fine." 

"What happened? It wasn't Sam, was it?" 

"No, no. He just broke my nose. But it was my fault," Alex insisted quickly. "I provoked him . . . Bobby?" The other line was silent. "Bobby? You still there?" 

"Yeah," he grunted. "What happened with the crutches?"

"We were tracking down a girl named Anna. Turns out she's an angel. Maybe Dean told you about her?" 

"He mentioned it." 

"So, yeah. We tracked her to a church. Then a big-ass demon showed up. He's called Alistair. Anyways. Push came to shove, Ruby's knife had no effect, so we had to jump out of a high window. I most likely broke my ankle." 

Bobby was silent. Then he sighed. "Does it hurt?" 

"Like hell." 

"There's scotch in the cupboard. Don't tell Dean." 

"Oh. He doesn't really care anymore. He wasn't happy when he learned I finished off a bottle of whiskey a couple days ago, but he gave me some whiskey and three aspirin." 

"Hm. Good for him. If you're gonna be a hunter, you can't not drink." 

"Yeah. It still tastes disgusting, but it helps. But, uh, how about you? How you doing?" 

"It's okay. Kind of hot."

"That's a problem I'd like to have right now. You hunting?" 

"Yeah. A biembien. Native to the Dominican. There's been a few recent cases bleeding into the states, so I flew down to see what I could dig up on 'em." 

"Hm. I'll look them up later. Sounds cool." 

 

 **T** hey chatted idly for another few minutes before Bobby hung up, saying he had to go. Alex hobbled over to her computer desk, powering up her laptop. Quite bored, she opened google. _Supernatural books,_ she typed into the search box. 

Several pages popped up. A few were links to sights that sold the books, but one caught her eye. _Supernatural: The Official Fan Site._ She clicked it. There were several discussion pages with lots of questions. Strangely, Alex knew the answer to many of them. She looked towards the top of the screen. Login or Signup. So, naturally, she quickly signed up. She sat quietly for a while, trying to think of a good screen name. _not-actually-a-winchester._

She was quick to answer many of the questions. She wasn't sure how the other fans would react, but right now she really didn't care. 

The sun was setting when Alex made her way down the stairs and into the study. "All right," Ruby was saying. "That narrows it down to an entire state." 

"Hm?" Alex glanced at Sam, hoping for an explanation.

"I found records of a meteor over Ohio in March '85. Nine months before Anna was born. On the same night there was another meteor that was somewhere over Kansas. If the one in Ohio was Anna, the one in Kansas might be her grace." 

"Ah. Good work, Sammy boy." 

"Uh, Alex, can we have a moment?" Ruby shot her a meaningful glance, and Alex nodded. 

"Sure. I'll be in the kitchen. I'm starving." She limped over to the fridge. It looked like Dean had brought back groceries, because the shelves were stocked, something unusual for Bobby to do. 

"Sam . . . I'm sorry," she heard Ruby begin. 

"For what?"

"For bringing you into this mess. If I had known, I would have kept my trap shut." 

"Yeah, well, we'll muddle through."

"Not this time. You do not want to get between these two armies. It's Godzilla and Mothra. If one side doesn't get us, the other side will." 

"You guys want anything to drink?" Alex called in, trying to act like she wasn't listening. "Beer? Scotch? Ooh. Vodka. Might try some of that." She pulled out the bottle, turning to look at Sam. "Is this any good?" 

"It's okay," Sam shrugged. "No more than half a glass for you, though. Dean'll kill me if you get drunk." 

"Is that all it takes?" Alex muttered, but decided to do as he said. "So, beers?" 

"Sure." 

Alex pulled one out of the fridge and brought it over to him. Then she went back to the kitchen and poured a bit of vodka into a small glass. She sniffed it, recoiled, the took a sip. 

"So what do you want to do?" Sam continued his discussion with Ruby. He cracked open his beer. "Dump Anna and run? Forget it. I know the angels freak you out --"

Ruby shook her head. "Forget the angels. It's Alistair that freaks me out." 

"Alistair?" 

"He made us jump through a window." Alex leaned around the corner. "I broke my ankle? Remember?"

"That was Alistair?" 

"Yep." Alex left her crutches in the kitchen, carefully moving into the study. She sat down against the wall, running her thumbs along the ridges on her glass. 

"He's practically the grand inquisitor of downstairs. Picasso with a razor." 

Sam looked over at the demon. "And?" 

"And you should be able to pull him out and throw him back down into the pit. If you weren't so out of shape." 

"Ruby . . ."

"No, your abilities . . . you're getting flabby." 

"Yeah, so how do I tone up?" 

"You know how. You know what you got to do." 

Alex took another sip of vodka. Sam shook his head. "No. I'm not going to do that anymore."

"Sam . . ." 

"I said no." 

"Well, then you better pray that Anna gets her groove back, or we're all dead." 

Sam glanced over at Alex, and she met his gaze, blinking once. "Sorry," she admitted. "I don't actually remember any of this. I remember Anna." 

"Remember?" Ruby looked down at the girl. "What do you mean, remember?" 

"Nothing." Alex studied her glass, mentally cursing herself.

"Alex came from --" 

"I said, _nothing_." Alex cut him off sharply. Sam took the hint. 

Ruby studied both of them, but then gave up. "Whatever." 

Sam turned back to his researching. 

The back door opened an hour later. Dean and Anna soon entered the study. "Find anything?" Dean asked. He looked down at Alex, eyes narrowing. 

She shrugged. "Vodka. Relax. I think it's absolutely nasty, but it helps with the pain." 

Dean sighed, but turned back to Sam. "Well?"

"Union, Kentucky." Sam turned his laptop to show Dean. "Found some accounts of a local miracle." 

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. In '85, there was an empty field outside town. Six months later, there was a full grown oak. They say it looks a century old, at least." 

"Anna," Dean turned to the fallen angel. "What do you think?" 

"The grace. Where it hit, it could have done something like that, easy." 

"So grace ground zero. It's not destruction, it . . ."

"Pure creation." 

"Cool." Alex nodded appreciatively. She had to admit, she had never known that. 

"So. Union, Kentucky." Dean let out a breath. "We'll, uh . . . we'll leave in the morning, okay? Unlike you guys, I'm still human. I need _sleep_." 

Alex smiled. "Same here." 

"We'll leave tomorrow morning." Dean promptly collapsed on the couch. "I'm done driving." 

"Never thought I'd hear that from you. But I'm off to bed as well." Alex glanced at the clock. It was past midnight. "Hey, uh, Anna, can you pass me my crutches?" When the angel did so, Alex slowly made her way upstairs. With the help of the vodka, she was quick to fall asleep.


	11. Heaven and Hell

**December 8th, 2008**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**T** he sunlight woke her. She sat up, yawning. Her clock read almost 7. She grabbed her crutches, went over to her dresser, and grabbed a change of clothes. Then she limped over to the bathroom. 

Since the door didn't lock, she leaned a wooden chair under the handle, pushing the legs against the sink vanity. That way, no one could walk in. She took a quick shower, dressed in clean clothes, and made her way downstairs. 

She frowned. "Did I miss breakfast?" 

Sam and Dean were sitting in the kitchen, eating pancakes. "There's plenty left," Dean promised, motioning towards the stove. Alex saw a pan on it, and next to it, a plate full of pancakes. She took three, sitting down next to them. 

"Did you make 'em?" 

"Yep." Dean sounded proud, and Alex took a bite. 

"Wow," she praised, "these are really good." 

"I know, right?" 

"Where's the demon and the angel?" 

"Downstairs." Sam finished his breakfast and tossed his plate in the sink. "And, uh, do the dishes while we're gone." 

Alex paused. "I'm not sure how that works. How can I do the dishes if I'll be gone?" 

Sam let out a frustrated noise. "You're not coming, Alex." 

"Uh, yeah, I am coming. You can't just pull me off this case, Sam. I knew Anna was an angel. That means that all this is somewhere in my head." 

"Then you can give us a call. But until that foot heals up, you're benched." 

"Dean!" Alex turned towards the oldest hunter. "I can come, right?" 

"I don't know, girl. What if we run into Alistair again? You're no use."

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but hesitated. Then she dropped her gaze. "You're right. I'll probably just get you guys killed. Fine." She rolled her eyes. "I'm going back to bed." She grabbed her crutches and went up the stairs as fast as she could. 

She collapsed on the bed, anger boiling under her skin. She took deep breaths, knowing there was no reason that she should be mad at them. There was a knock at the door, and Alex pulled herself up into a sitting position. "What?" 

The door opened, and Dean stepped in. "Look --"

"It's fine." Alex cut him off. "I get it, okay? You're right. I'll only slow you guys down." 

"Yeah, well, sorry about that." 

"Whatever. You guys know what you're doing, so you guys call the shots. I can manage on my own." Alex swung her feet over the edge of the bed, awkwardly positioning her broken ankle. "But, uh, call me, okay? If you have any questions, I'll see what I can figure out. And, uh, between you and me, I get kind of lonely here." 

"Okay. Thanks." Dean awkwardly left. "We'll be off then." 

A few minutes later a car started, and the noise quickly faded off into the distance as they drove away. Alex fell back to sleep. 

 

 **S** he was being chased. By what she wasn't sure. It was dark and foggy all around, but footsteps echoed, telling her she was in some sort of building. She kept running. Moans sounded behind her, filled with pain and suffering. Shuffling footsteps, and the smell of death. Alex tripped. 

She hit the ground, rolling with her shoulder. Then the ground disappeared. She was falling. Her gun was gone. She hit the floor hard, knocking the breath out of her. The stench of death permeated everything, and she gagged. The fog cleared, revealing a warehouse full of zombies. Rotting flesh barely hung on yellowed bones. Empty sockets, oozing guts, moans and cries escaping torn throats. Terror shot up Alex's spine, white and hot. She tried to scramble to her feet, but her right ankle held no weight. She was surrounded. She fell back to the ground, curling up.

The mass of rotting bodies closed in, reaching for her. Alex screwed her eyes shut, breathing ragged. A single hand gripped her shoulder, and Alex buried her head in her knees, shaking. 

"Alex." When Alex didn't respond, the voice repeated itself. "Alex." 

Alex opened her eyes. The zombies were still there, arms reaching for her. But they were frozen. Alex hesitated. When they still didn't move, she stood up, turning around. It was Castiel. 

"What?" Alex snapped, trying to sound strong. However, her voice cracked, and her whole body was still shaking. 

"Is this what you dream about?" Castiel studied the zombies, head tilted. 

"It's called a nightmare." Alex glanced at one, then quickly adverted her eyes. "Usually they're people I know. I guess I got lucky tonight." She tried to make a joke, but it just sounded pitiful. "Why are you here?" 

Castiel turned back to her. The zombies shimmered and disappeared, leaving them alone in the warehouse. "Where are you?" 

Alex looked around. "Dunno. Never been here before."

"That's not what I mean. Where are you in the real world?" 

"Bobby's. Why?" When Castiel didn't respond, Alex shook her head. "No way. I'm not letting you get your hands on Anna. I know she's an fallen angel and all, but that doesn't change anything." 

"It changes everything." Castiel's blue eyes flashed with rarely seen anger. "Wake up." He snapped his fingers.

 

 **A** lex sat up in bed, dream still fresh in her mind. She sighed, grabbing her crutches and limping down the stairs. Castiel and Uriel were standing there. "Ah, wonderful," Alex sighed. "The God Squad again." 

"Anna is not here." 

"Of course she's not here," Alex glanced up at Uriel. "Did you really think I would tell you guys where she is? Not all of us humans are as stupid as you might think." 

Uriel just frowned. "Where are they?" 

"Dunno." 

"I said, where are they?" Uriel stepped forward, grabbing the collar of her shirt and pinning her against the wall. 

"Ow!" Alex yelped as her back hit the wall. "I told you. I don't know." 

"Uriel. Put her down." 

"You're no longer in charge." However, Uriel let her fall to the ground. 

Alex cried out as she landed awkwardly on her broken ankle. "They left for some place. They didn't tell me where, but I had to stay behind." 

"What happened?" Castiel asked, glancing down at her ankle. 

"I broke it running from Alistair. We jumped out of a window. Then Sam broke my nose. But I may have deserved that one." 

Castiel stepped forward, reaching out. He touched her nose, and the pain faded. Then he was shoved backwards. "Have you learned nothing, brother?" Uriel asked. "This very reason is why you were demoted." 

"Demoted?" Alex narrowed her eyes. "Cas?" 

Castiel refused to make eye contact. "There is no reason why we should not help our father's creation," he calmly told Uriel. Uriel cast him a warning glare, and Castiel fell silent. 

Alex blinked. She reached for her crutches, pulling herself back up to her feet. "Sorry I can't help you boys." She limped into the kitchen. "But, I can offer you pancakes. Dean made 'em." She leaned against the counter, holding out the plate. "Hungry?" 

Castiel said nothing, but Uriel stepped forward angrily. "Listen here, you mud-monkey--" 

"You're a . . . mud-monkey," Alex shot back weakly. She downed a half-filled glass of water. "Oh, and thanks for fixing my nose, Cas." 

Still, Castiel said nothing. 

"I know you know where Anna is," Uriel continued. "Castiel told me you know the future." 

Alex shot Castiel a hurtful glance. He refused to meet her eyes. Alex turned back to Uriel, gaze hardening. "Sort of. Not really. I know a few things. But, uh, not much." 

Uriel's frown deepened. "I don't have time for this." 

"Neither do I. Now. Anna's not here. So why are you?" 

The fluttering of wings answered her question. They left. Alex let out a pent up breath, leaning against counter. That could have gone better. A lot better. She hobbled into the library. The door flew open, and Alex looked up. "Hello?" 

"Alex?" 

"That's my name." Alex breathed a silent sigh of relief when she recognized Bobby's voice. She watched him walk into the study. 

"How are you doing?" 

"Pretty good. You're back pretty early."

"I got everything I needed." Bobby dropped his bag on the floor. "How's the foot?" 

"Eh. Dunno." 

"Is it broken?" 

"Think so." 

"Let me see." Bobby pulled up a chair, and Alex lifted up her ankle. He pulled off the brace, running calloused fingers over the sensitive skin. Alex flinched, and Bobby pulled back. "Yeah, looks broken. Where'd you get the brace?" 

"Dunno. Dean got it somewhere." 

"Hm." Bobby put it back on. "So. How'd it happen?" 

Alex recounted what happened once again. Halfway through, Bobby stood up, walking into the kitchen. Alex kept talking, watching him carefully. 

He returned with two glasses of scotch. "My prescription. A glass of scotch, several times a day. Keep it up until the pain is gone." He handed one to her, and Alex accepted it. She watched him down it in two gulps, then took a small sip. It still burned going down, but she was getting use to it. 

"Thanks." Alex mindlessly ran a finger along the rim of the glass, deep in thought. 

"So what else has happened? Where's everybody?" 

"They headed out to somewhere in Kentucky. Anna's an angel, but she's missing her grace, so they're looking for that. So I stayed here, Sam, Dean, Anna, and Ruby left. Uh, Uriel and Cas were here a few minutes ago, but I got them to leave." 

"What did they want?" Bobby's voice grew concerned. 

"They wanted to know where Anna was. But I didn't know, so I didn't tell them. Cas healed my broken nose, but, uh, apparently he's no longer in charge of his garrison. He's been demoted." 

Bobby shrugged. "So?" 

"So?" Alex chuckled. "Trust me. If you're gonna butt heads with that garrison, you want Cas to be in charge. He's really cool, okay? Uriel . . . not so much." 

Even though Alex knew Bobby didn't understand, he grunted in agreement. 

Alex took another sip of the scotch. "Okay. Enough about those winged dicks. You're turn. Biembiens, huh?" 

"Yup." 

"And . . ?" 

"And what?" 

"Come on. Tell me about them. I'm curious." 

Just as Alex spoke those words, the phone rang. Bobby got up and answered it. "This is Agent Castle. Why, yes, ma'am. Agent Barrow is one of my best agents. Of course. Mm-hmm." He hung up, walking back over to her. "Okay. Biembiens, Humanoid creatures that only come out at night. They're similar to rougarous. They feed on human entrails." 

"Hmm. How do you kill one?" 

"Simple. Fire." 

"Hm. Cool." 

"Sure." Bobby stood up and walked off. Alex sighed. 

 

 **T** he sun had set when Alex's phone rang. "What?" 

"It's Dean." 

"Yeah, I know. You guys find Anna's grace?" 

"No." Dean sounded confused and concerned, and Alex pulled herself into a sitting position. "It's gone." 

"Gone?" 

"Yep. That's what I said. Any idea where it is?" 

"Sorry. I honestly don't know. I mean, she gets it back, but how? . . . I'm not sure." 

"Oh. Okay." Dean hung up. 

"But, yes, I've had an okay day, thanks for asking," Alex continued dryly. "Bobby came back. Yes, yes, he's fine." Bored, she hung as well, tossing her phone across the room. 

 

 **C** hristmas came. Alex spent the day with Bobby, Rufus, and Irv. Bobby made artillery punch, which was basically a mixture of several bottles of red wine plus every alcoholic beverage in the book. Garth even stopped by, but overall it was a quiet, albeit unusual Christmas. 

Alex was sent upstairs around ten, and she heard the hunters downstairs laughing and arguing about something. She sighed. She was stuck up here all by herself. No gifts, though she hadn't been expecting any with the hunters. She couldn't even drink. She retired to bed early. 

 

 **W** hen she woke up, Bobby was asleep on the couch, half-emptied glass in his hand. Alex took it, depositing it in the sink. The house was a mess. She wasn't surprised. Bobby grunted something, and Alex glanced over at him. "Morning." 

Bobby grumbled again. He sat up, looking over at her. "What time is it?" 

"Like eight. Merry Christmas." 

"Yeah. Thanks." Bobby looked around. "They left?" 

"Suppose so. You sent me upstairs before I could say goodbye." 

"I didn't want anything happening to you. There were four drunk hunters here. I wasn't taking any chances." 

Alex didn't need to ask what he meant. She blushed. "Whatever." She cleaned up the kitchen while they talked. 

Bobby approached. "Got you something." Alex turned, and he held out a shotgun. "Thought I'd teach you how to make a sawed-off."

Alex smiled. "Thanks." She took it. Double barreled side-by-side. "Nice. I -- sorry. I didn't get you anything." 

"Whatever. You've done plenty already." Bobby walked over to the fridge. "Now how about breakfast?"

 

**January 19th, 2009**

**I** t was six weeks later. Neither Dean nor Sam really called. Alex was up and walking without the crutches now, but still wore the thin brace. Her limp was gone, and she could run and jump just as easily as she could before. But today was her birthday. January 19th, to be exact. 

There was a knock on the door, and Alex answered it. It was Sam and Dean. "Hey. Come on in." Alex ushered them into the house. 

"You're looking pretty good," Dean remarked. 

"Yeah. My ankle's healed up. So's the nose." Alex shot a humorous glance at Sam. "No thanks to you." 

Sam just grunted. "Bobby?" 

"What?" Bobby entered the room. "Ah Sam. And Dean." 

"Hey Bobby. Sorry we're a few days early. We were just passing through."

"It's fine. Early happy birthday, then." 

"Thanks." Dean smiled. 

"Oh. It's your birthday." Alex's smile faded momentarily. "Well, congrats." 

"You got cake?" Dean joked. 

Bobby snorted. "Of course I got cake. Come on in." He led them into the kitchen. Alex followed, slightly curious. It was her birthday. Today. Dean's was in five days. Maybe they were just combining her's with Dean's. She leaned against the far wall, studying them silently. She watched Bobby pull out three beers and begin to cut the cake. Dean handed out the pieces. One to Sam, one for himself, and one for Bobby. 

When Bobby cut a fourth piece, Dean frowned. "Who's that for?" 

Bobby looked up, looking around. His eyes came to rest on Alex. "Her, you dumb-ass." 

Dean glanced behind him, blushing slightly with embarrassment. "Oh. Right." He handed her a piece. "I knew that." 

"Ouch," Alex pretended to joke. "Is there something about me that's just that forgettable?" 

Dean chuckled slightly. 

 

 **T** he Winchesters stayed for the rest of the day, somehow finishing up the cake and the entire supply of beer. There were quite a few stories told about Dean, apparently reminiscing because it was his birthday, but no mention of Alex. She frowned, feeling slightly forgotten. 

 

 **A** lex glanced at the clock. It was near ten o'clock. She forced out a yawn. "So," she asked. "Who's birthday is next? Sammy's, right?" 

"Uh, yeah." Sam glanced up at her. 

"Then Bobby's." Alex crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. "When is yours, anyways?"

"July 17th," Sam answered when Bobby just let out a grunt. 

"Then yours." Dean glanced up at her. 

"Yup." 

"When?" 

"Uh, about six months and two days after Bobby's." She let that sink in. 

She saw Sam counting it out on his fingers. Then there was complete silence. "Oh." Sam's mouth dropped open embarrassedly. 

"What?" Dean looked confused.

"That's today, Dean," Sam explained quietly. 

"Anyways. It's late, I think I'll head off to bed, okay?" Alex smiled, pushing away the sadness. She headed towards the stairs. "Oh, and, uh, happy birthday, Dean."

She hurried into her room, closing the door. She sat in the darkness, arms around her knees. She knew she shouldn't be sad about it. Although it wasn't like they hadn't known about it. She had told them when her birthday was; Dean had even commented about how it was so close to his. 

Oh well. It wasn't like this was her first birthday that had been forgotten. Although it was her first birthday where someone else's birthday had been celebrated instead. She sighed, and quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants and a large t-shirt. Then she returned to her bed, staring out the window at the night sky. 

There was a knock at the door. Alex didn't answer. It creaked open, letting the hall light flood in. A figure stepped in, closing the door behind him. "Alex?" 

Alex recognized Dean's voice. "Hm? Oh. Hey, Dean. What's up?"

"Uh, not much." Dean walked over to her. "I'm -- uh, listen. Sorry about today." 

Alex shrugged, refusing to cry. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's not your fault." 

"Yeah, it is our fault." Dean sat down on the bed next to her. "So seriously. You can stop with all that crap, okay? I can see straight through it." 

Alex rolled her eyes. "So what, you forgot my birthday. It's not like that's never happened before. It's no big deal. Really." 

Dean just shook his head. "Whatever. It still ain't fair. You should have said something." 

"Like what?" Alex laughed dryly. "Like, 'Hey, happy early birthday, Dean. Enjoy your cake. Oh, and by the way, today's my actual birthday. In case you cared'?" 

"Yeah, exactly like that." 

Alex opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. She returned to staring out the window. "Look," she finally said. "I've never exactly had friends or family, okay? So when I find people who actually give a damn about me, I tend to hold on tight. And, like it or not, you three are the only people I have. So I'm just trying to lay low and stay put, okay? 'Cause if I lose you guys, I got nothing." 

Dean let out a small breath. "You think we would have thrown you out because it was your birthday?" 

"Yes -- no. No. But it would have . . . it's -- it's complicated, okay?" 

"Okay. But seriously. If you want to stay here, you got to stop feeling sorry for yourself." 

Alex looked over at him. "You're one to talk." 

"Yeah, well, I am." Dean sighed, and they lapsed into a short silence. Alex leaned against the cold window, staring at the stars. Finally Dean spoke. "So. How old are you?" 

"Hm?" 

"It's your birthday. How old are you now?" 

"Eighteen." 

"Eighteen, huh? Nice. Lots of stuff you can do at eighteen." 

"Yeah?" 

"Sure." Dean leaned his head back against her wall. "You can go to a strip club, for example." 

Alex laughed. "I'm sure you would know that, too." 

"Of course. Let's see. You can go into nightclubs as well. We'll have to start teaching you how to hustle pool. You can start earning your keep . . ." he looked over at Alex, who was smiling in amusement. "You can rent a port-a-potty--" 

"You have to be eighteen to rent a port-a-potty?" Alex repeated. 

"You bet." Dean smiled at her. "They don't rent those things out to just anybody." He watched Alex laugh before standing up. "Listen. Me and Sam have to go." 

"Yeah, yeah. No problem." Alex' smile faded. "Thanks for stopping by. Oh!" She stood up, walking over to the wardrobe. "Look." She pulled out her sawed-off shotgun. "Bobby showed me how to do this." 

"Wow." Dean took it from her hands. He studied it, feeling its weight. "You made this all by yourself?" 

"Yeah." Alex grinned. 

"Good job." Dean handed it back to her with a smile. "That's really cool. He walked over to the door. "Happy birthday." 

Alex smiled again. "Thanks. You too."

Dean left. Alex sighed again, relaxing against the wall. Below her, light flooded onto the snow, illuminating the Impala. Two figures trudged out into the cold, getting into the car. Alex recognized Sam and Dean. Dean stopped by the driver's seat. He looked up, eyes finding her window. He gave a tiny wave, and Alex waved back. He got into the car and drove away. 

Alex watched them drive off. Then she drew the curtains, sitting in the dark. "Hey, Cas. How's it going? We haven't really talked in a while. It was, uh, it was my birthday today. Not that anyone remembered." She sighed, the sadness returning. "Oh well. When's your birthday? Hm. Do you have one?" She paused. "Sorry. I shouldn't be talking to you. You've gotten in enough trouble already." 

There was no answer. Alex sighed again. "Okay. Uh, yeah. Stay safe, Cas." She crawled under her covers and tried to fall asleep.


	12. Welcome to the Jungle

**January 29th, 2009**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**I** t was almost February when Alex heard from Dean again. He called her up one day. "Hey. Alex." 

"Yup. That's my name. What's up?" 

"So, since you seem so intent on hunting, we've got a case a few miles east of where you are. Seems like a simple vamp case. I figured that if you're going to be a hunter, you better get some experience under your belt." 

"Uh, sure, if it's not out of your way." She lowered her voice. "Truthfully, I'll be glad to get out of here and away from Bobby. He's driving me insane." 

Dean laughed quietly. "Tell me about it. But, uh, I just want to make sure this is what you want, okay? Because hunting's not fun, its not pretty. It's full of nightmares and pain and all types of crap." 

"Tell me about it. You know my first real not-a-ghost case had zombies? Remember? They weren't just zombies either. They were zombies that died and became ghosts. I don't do zombies, Dean. I still have nightmares." 

"It doesn't get any better," Dean warned. 

"Yeah, well, I'm already in. I spent most of last summer burying bodies with Bobby, okay? They weren't pretty either." She sighed. "Come on. I've already been on a few cases. If I don't like it, I'll just come back and hang with Bobby. He wants me to go to college." 

"You should." 

"Eh. I mean, I haven't exactly been to high school, and I don't actually exist in this world either. It's not looking too promising." 

Dean grunted in acknowledgment. "Well, okay. We'll be by sometime tomorrow." 

"Awesome. See you then. Tell Sammy I said hi."

"Yep." Dean hung up, and so did Alex. 

"Who was that?" Bobby walked into the room. 

"Dean. He says since it looks like I'll be a hunter, and he and Sam found an easy vamp case past our way, he asked if I wanted to go along. I said sure." 

"You seriously got your mind set on being a hunter?" Bobby walked by her and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. 

"Bobby," Alex sighed, "I honestly don't see how I have a choice. I mean, you, Dean, Sam, you guys are all hunters. And you're basically the only family I have. Plus, I kinda know what's going to happen. I can't just turn a blind eye to all that." 

Bobby let out a grunt. "Guess you got a point." When Alex nodded, he continued. "Fine. Go ahead." 

Alex grinned. "Thanks, Bobby." 

 

 **T** he next afternoon, the Impala pulled up behind the house. Dean got out, knocking on the door. "Hey. You ready?" 

"Yep." Alex slung her bag over her shoulder. "See ya, Bobby." 

"Stay alive," Bobby yelled back. 

Alex snorted in laughter. "I'll see what I can do," she promised. 

She got into the backseat, throwing her bag against the far door. "Samster. We meet again," she said in a Russian accent. 

Sam said nothing. 

Dean got in, and they drove off. "Okay." Alex leaned over the backseat. "Tell me. What we got?" 

"Typical vamp case down south. Should be quite simple. A good starter case." 

"Hm." Alex shrugged, wanting to point out that she wasn't exactly a rookie anymore. But she said nothing. After all, they knew best. 

 

 **S** even hours later, Dean pulled the car up into a motel. They checked in. "Okay. So, here's the plan. The nest is a few miles into the woods. We've been keeping an eye on this place for a while now. Every once and a while it fills up to where it becomes a problem again. We'll head out tonight and check the place out." He paused, glancing at Alex. "How good are you with a machete?" 

Alex shrugged. "Dunno. Never really used one, I guess." 

"Hm. Wonderful," Sam grumbled. 

 

 **A** lex snuck through the woods. Moonlight barley illuminated the dense forest. In front of her, Dean and Sam walked, feet somewhat silent on the bare ground. Alex stepped lightly, slightly pleased that even she could barely hear her footsteps. She tightened her grip on the wooden handle of the machete, its metal blade reflecting the dull light. Dean stopped, glancing back at her. 

"What?" Alex asked. 

"Nothing," Dean whispered back. "I just can't hear you following us. Just making sure you're still there." 

"I am." Alex stood beside him. "Is that the nest?" she motioned towards the dilapidated house in front of them. 

"Mm-hmm." Dean nodded faintly. "Circle around, would ya? Then report back." 

Alex nodded, swallowing her fear and slipping off in between the trees. She kept her left side facing the house. A cold breeze blew across her, reminding Alex that it was February. However, the ground was clear of snow. She glanced back at the house. It looked abandoned, but as she rounded the back, she saw a flicker of movement through the broken glass of the back window. Silent as a mouse, she crept back behind Sam and Dean. They were watching the house and didn't hear her approach. 

She stopped behind them. "Place seems quiet," she reported. 

Both Sam and Dean jumped. "Dammit," Dean cursed under his breath. 

"Although I thought I saw movement through one of the windows in the back." 

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. "I'll get it," Sam whispered, then disappeared off to their right. 

"Okay. We'll give him time to get back there, then we'll go in. They probably already know we're here." 

Alex grunted in agreement, knowing how sensitive their senses were. After a few second's pause, Dean motioned her forward, machete gripped tightly. Suddenly there was noises in the back, and Dean picked up his pace, rushing through the door. Alex followed close behind. Three people were inside. Seeing the hunters, they bared their pointed teeth, nostrils flared. 

Then they attacked. Dean swung his machete, taking off one's head. It fell to the ground. One ducked past Dean, launching itself at Alex. She twirled the blade in her hand, looking for a clear shot. She swung, and the blade buried itself in the vampire's neck. The vampire screeched, trying to yank out the blade. Alex reached out, placing a hand on the vamp's head, using it as leverage to get the blade out. It worked, and blood sprayed from the open wound. Alex swung again, hacking away at the creature's neck. Her heart was pounding at the gruesome sight, but she kept going. On the third swing she severed the head, and it rolled off of the body. Alex spat on the ground, getting the tang of blood out of her mouth. A second body lay at Dean's feet, making the three they had seen. Sam entered thorough the back door, blood splattering his jacket, his machete stained red. 

Dean looked over at Alex. "How you doing?" 

Alex snorted, unwilling to admit how bad she was shaking. "You guys are lucky. It took me three swings to get that vamp's head off." 

Sam let out an amused noise. "Let's burn and go." He reached down and grabbed a body by its arm. "Dean, you're on head duty." 

Dean let out a snort. "Whatever. Alex, go get a couple shovels, would ya?" He tossed her the keys. "And the salt and gas." 

"Yeah, sure." Gripping her weapon tight, Alex hurried off into the dark woods. Her heart beat loudly, but she forced herself to remain calm. However, she broke into a light jog at the sound of a snapping twig. 

She grabbed two shovels, a bag of salt, and a gan of kerosene, threw it in a duffle, locked the trunk, then jogged back. "Here." She tossed Dean a shovel. They had moved the bodies outside into a pile. 

"Thanks." Dean and Sam began digging. 

After a few minutes, Sam stopped. He climbed out of the hole. "Here." He handed Alex his shovel. "You want to take a vamp's head off with one swing, you need muscle. Start digging." 

Alex rolled her eyes, but did as he said. "This better work," she shot back lightly. She jumped down next to Dean. 

 

 **L** ess than an hour later, all of the vamps were in the pit. Dean sprinkled the salt over the bodies than doused them with the accelerant. He flicked open a lighter, and dropped it. The bodies exploded into flames. Heat radiated off of the flames, and Alex reached out her hands. 

The smell was strange. It smelled like pork and beef with a coppery tang. Then, as the internal organs caught fire, the scent grew almost sickly sweet. 

As the flames died, Dean began shoveling back in the dirt. Alex helped. After a while Sam took over for her, and Alex just watched. Then, when they were finished, Dean packed up his stuff and motioned for them to go. Alex picked up her machete while Sam and Dean yanked theirs out of a nearby tree. They walked back to the car. 

"Here." Dean opened the trunk and tossed her a shirt. "Put this on." 

"Why?" Alex watched him take off his jacket and throw it in the trunk. 

"You're covered in blood," Sam explained. "Just do it." 

"Whatever." Alex pulled off her t-shirt and pulled on the new one. She wiped her face with the old one, getting the blood off. Then she tossed it in the car. "Thanks." 

"Mm-hmm." Dean got in the car. "Now. I'm thinking food and drink. Who's hungry?" 

 

 **H** e drove them back to the motel where they changed again into better clothes. Alex washed the blood off of her hair and face, and then Dean took them out to Taco Bell, which apparently was still open at that late hour. They ate tacos, drank a lot of caffeine, then Dean pulled out a newspaper article. 

"What's that?" Alex leaned against his shoulder to see. 

"New case." 

Sam sighed. "Another? Dean, we just finished one!" 

"So?" Dean unfolded the paper. "I picked this up when we drove through Minnesota." He handed the paper to Sam. "Sound ghost-ish?"

Sam quickly scanned the article. "Yeah. I mean, it sure seems like it." 

"Okay. Then we'll go check it out." Dean crumpled up his taco wrapper. "Let's go." 

Alex and Sam exchanged a glance and followed. They got into the car and drove. 

 

 **A** few hours out, Sam let out a large yawn. He glanced back at Alex. She met his gaze calmly. "You tired?" he asked. 

Alex shook her head. Truthfully, every time she closed her eyes, she saw the vampires chasing after her, their heads hanging only by a thread. 

"Hey, Dean. Pull over." 

Dean glanced quizzically over at his brother, but did as he asked. 

Sam got out and circled around to the back door. "Alex. Out." 

Alex slowly did as he said. "Why?" she dared to ask. 

"I'm taking a nap in the back." Sam crawled into the backseat. "Take shotgun." 

"Okay." Alex circled around to the passenger seat and got in. Dean glanced at her, but said nothing. They kept driving. 

 

**February 1st, 2009**

**Brandon, Minnesota**

**T** hey pulled into the North Country Motel in Brandon, Minnesota late the next morning. Dean checked them in, and Alex collapsed on the bed. She looked around. The two beds were in the back, divided from the rest of the room by a half wall. There was a small kitchen set in front with a table and two chairs near the window. A couch sat against the far wall, facing a decent sized television set. 

Sam sat down at the table, pulling out his laptop. He did something, then leaned in, carefully reading the screen. Every once and a while he'd scribble something down on his notepad, face deep in concentration. 

A few minutes later Dean came back, carrying a plastic bag of groceries and a six pack of beer. He tossed the bag on the counter and put the beer in the fridge. "So. What'd you find?" 

"It's only been five minutes, Dean," Sam said. "I'm not a miracle worker." 

"No, but you're good. What'd you find?" 

Sam rolled his eyes. "The Madison house." He glanced down at his notes. "Uh, built in 1865, sold three times before a man called Henry Madison. Um, local folklore says he killed his three daughters and wife and buried them in the basement, then offed himself. They say he haunts the house and that no one who goes in comes out . . ."

Dean grunted. "Typical." 

Sam snorted in agreement before continuing. "Uh, no ones lived there since he died. Um, in other news, two kids went missing three days ago. Their names were Thomas Freeman and Ben Young." He turned his laptop so Dean could see. 

Curious, Alex got up and walked over to them. "So it sounds like a vengeful spirit type thing." 

"Uh, yeah," Sam agreed. 

"So we should go check out the house." Dean stood up.

"Well, someone should go talk to the kids' parents," Sam countered, standing up as well. 

Dean nodded. "Yep. Thanks for volunteering. Come on, Alex." 

Sam shook his head in annoyance. "Let's meet at the cafe down the street for lunch afterwards." 

"Deal." Dean threw on a jacket. "We'll drop you off at the car rentals, then we're off." He glanced at Alex. "FBI. Just in case." 

Alex nodded and hurried over to her bag. She fished around for her FBI ID, putting into in her pocket. Then she grabbed a heavy grey sweatshirt and pulled it on. It was huge -- undoubtably Sam's -- but if kept her very warm. She followed the Winchester's out the door and into the biting wind. 

They hurriedly got into the car. Dean started the engine. It took a few tries, but it soon purred to life. He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. Alex looked out the window at the passing landscape. It was almost completely white. The snow had stopped falling hours ago, but the wind kept it swirling around. 

Dean pulled the Impala in front of a car rental. Sam jumped out, collar turned against the wind. Alex climbed over the seat next to Dean. "Turn up the heat," she muttered, pulling her hands into her sleeves. 

Dean just chuckled. "Wimp." 

"Jerk." Alex buckled in, slumping against the seat. "So where's this Madison house?" 

In response, Dean sped off. 

 

 **B** y the time they arrived, the air had warmed up a touch. Alex studied the house from the front seat. It was large and fancy; obviously this Henry Madison character had been wealthy. However, the roof was now sagging, and several of the windows were broken and boarded. 

Dean threw open the door and stepped out. Alex did the same. Her feet crunched on the snow as she circled around to the back. Dean opened the trunk, rifling through the weapons box. He handed her a flashlight, and took one for himself. He also grabbed an EMF. 

"Shouldn't we bring a salt gun?" Alex suggested. 

"Salt gun?" Dean looked over at her, amused. "What's that?" 

"You know what I mean." Alex just brushed him off. "I mean, if this place has a vengeful spirit that's taking people, maybe we should bring some protection, you know?" 

Dean handed her a sawed-off shotgun. "Good idea." 

Alex snorted in half amusement. "Sometimes I wonder how you guys are still alive." 

Dean didn't respond. He closed the trunk and hurried across the street. Alex followed. He stopped by the old iron gate, kicking it with his foot. It swung opened. They walked up to the front door. It in turn opened easily. Inside was dusty and damp, the cold air only making it worse. Alex flicked on her flashlight, running the white beam up the staircase to the second floor. "What are we looking for?" she asked. 

"Dunno. Bones, bodies, kids, ghosts. Take your pick." 

"No thanks," Alex muttered. She crossed the room. Dean followed. 

They explored the first floor, stopping in every room. "Ooh. Look. Stairs." Alex pulled open a door, pausing. "Every good haunted house has a basement, right?" 

Dean walked over to her. "You first." 

Alex rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. She slowly made her way down the steps, flashlight flickering around. A high pitched rolling noise sounded behind her as she stepped onto the basement floor, and she glanced behind her to see Dean holding the EMF. "EMF's going nuts," he murmured.

"Great." Alex let Dean take the lead. "Anything?" 

Dean turned, holding out the device next to a line of tools. "Nothing much." The noise died. Frustrated, Dean shook it. It was silent. "Damn. It's gone." 

"Great," Alex repeated. "Now it's on the move." 

"Mm-hmm." Dean continued to explore the basement. He stepped through a doorway. "There's no floor here," he called. "Just dirt . . . hey." 

Alex cautiously approached. "Do I dare ask what you found?"

Dean shifted so she could see past him. His flashlight was focused on the far wall. "That dirt's fresh." He walked over to it. 

"Of course it is," Alex sighed. She reluctantly followed. 

"Go see if there's a shovel or something in there," Dean said. 

Alex retreated to the basement. She found a small shovel and returned it to Dean. He promptly began digging at the dirt. 

"Yeah," Alex agreed sarcastically. "This is a great idea. I mean, seriously, what can go wrong?" 

"Shut up and keep watch," Dean grunted. 

Alex let out a breath through her nose, but turned her back to him, watching vigilant. 

After a little while the sound of metal on dirt changed, and Dean cursed. "Damn."

"What?" Alex turned. Fear ran up her spine as her flashlight came to rest on the new hole. "Is that . . ." 

"Probably." Dean knelt down. A face stuck out of the dirt, it's eyes dull and glassy. The boy's head was at a strange angle, telling Alex his neck was probably broken. "I think that's Ben." 

"Great," she muttered. "So are we done here?" She turned to leave, then stopped. A woman stood in front of her. She flickered once, and her jaws opened unnaturally wide in a silent scream. 

There was a loud bang, and the ghost dissipated. Dean was holding his shotgun, its barrel pointed past Alex. 

"Yeah, we're done down here," he said. "Let's go." 

Alex picked up her gun and followed him up. However, instead of him going out the front door, he headed up the stairs. "Uh, Dean?" Alex asked. "Where are you going?" 

"We got to see the rest of the house," Dean insisted. "Come on." 

Alex reluctantly followed. There was nothing on the second floor, and then Dean led her up to the attic. "Wonderful," she muttered. "Creepy ass house with a creepy ass attic." She brushed a large cobweb out the way, resisting the urge to flinch away. 

"And there's Thomas." Dean's voice made Alex jump. She forced herself to turn towards his voice. A boy was hanging from from the rafters, his face blue and swollen. 

"There's something seriously wrong with this ghost," Alex insisted. Her voice surprisingly didn't shake. "Are we done now? Like, done done? This is pretty creepy." 

"Yeah. We can go." Dean led them back out of the house. They threw their guns in the back and drove off. 

 

 **I** t was a little past noon when they pulled into the cafe down the street from the motel. They got out, Dean locked the door, and they walked into the cafe. Sam was already sitting at a table, and waved them over. They sat down, and Alex picked up the menu. 

"So," Sam began. "Did you find anything?" 

"Uh, yeah. We found the kids." 

Sam looked sharply at his brother. "What?" 

"Yeah. One was buried in the basement, and the other was hanging in the attic." 

"There was a ghost too," Alex added. "But, uh, it was a chick, and she seemed more scared than anything. I mean, all she did was appear and silently scream." 

"So you're thinking there might be more than one ghost?"

"I think it's a strong possibility," Alex agreed. "I mean, didn't that legend say the guy buried his wife and daughters in the basement? Maybe it's one of them and that's what's holding them there." 

"Nope." Sam pushed a folder towards them. "I did some digging. Barbara Madison and her two daughters are buried in Longview Cemetery." 

Dean flipped through the folder. Alex watched him. "Is that them?" She pointed to a old black and white Polaroid.

"Yeah. Why?" 

"Because that wasn't the girl I saw." Alex studied the picture closely. It had terrible resolution, but the girl she saw definitely wasn't there. 

She saw Dean and Sam exchange a glance. Dean took the photo. "She's right," he agreed. "That's not her." 

"Then who is she?"

Their conversation was cut short as the waitress came to take their order. 

"Maybe Henry is the killer ghost," Alex suggested when the woman left, "and the other ghost is another victim he took after he was dead like, uh . . ." She searched for the word. Unable to find it, she just described it. "Like when a ghost relives its last few moments -- death echo. Maybe it's one of those." 

Sam shook his head. "Henry was cremated." He looked over at Dean, who was smiling in amusement. "What?" 

"Uh, nothing. I'm just thinking about the last time we dealt with a killer ghost and death echoes." 

Alex watched Sam grimace, and her interest grew. "What happened?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "The Ghostfacers happened." 

"Oh." Alex smiled. "I've heard of them. That was when, uh, gay love pierce the veil of death and saved the day, right?" 

Dean chuckled, and Sam just shook his head. "Yeah, that's them." 

Alex laughed. "Those guys are great. They're the ones who, uh, what was it? Dean, you told them to get salt out of your duffle bag, pour it in a circle, and get inside, and they asked--"

"Inside the duffle?" Dean finished, and Alex grinned. "Yeah, uh, just yeah." 

 

 **T** hey finished up lunch and went back to their motel. At some point Sam drove down to the library to find the local archives, leaving Dean and Alex alone. They didn't do much. Dean was on his laptop, and Alex curled up under the covers and took a nap. 

**A** t one point Dean got a call from Sam, and drove off to help him with whatever. Alex declined his offer to come along. The door closed, and soon the familiar sound of the Impala engine faded off. Alex surfed through the different tv channels. There was nothing on. "Castiel?" she finally asked. "Are you doing okay? I haven't heard from you in almost two months." She paused. "I hope everything's okay up there. Sorry about the demotion." 

"It isn't your fault." Castiel's deep voice reached her ears. 

She turned, a smile growing on her face. "Hey, Cassie." 

"Hello. Why are you under the covers?" Castiel tipped his head to one side. "It's the middle of the day." 

"Yeah, in the middle of winter. It's freaking cold in here." Alex sat up, dislodging the covers. She pulled Sam's sweatshirt even tighter around her. 

"What do you want?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"I'm in enough trouble already. My superiors think I am getting too involved in your lives already." 

Alex laughed. "We're trying to stop the apocalypse here. Any of your involvement is welcomed." 

Castiel opened his mouth, but said nothing. He closed it again. "It is not my place to say what is and isn't right." 

"No, I think it _is_ your place to say what's right and what's not." Alex stood up and walked over to him. He opened his mouth to respond, but Alex placed a finger over his lips. "Drop it." She went over to the fridge and pulled out a coke. "So, what's new with you?" 

"Not much. How is the ankle?" 

"Pretty good. It still gives out once and a while. Maybe it didn't set well." Alex cracked open the carbonated drink. 

"Let me see." 

Alex shrugged, but sat down at the table. She lifted her right foot onto the table. Castiel reached out. He placed a light hand on her ankle. Warmth spread outwards from his touch. Then he pulled back. "You're right. It didn't set correctly. I fixed it." 

"Oh. Thanks." Alex stood back up. "You know, you're pretty cool. Don't let your superiors get to you, okay? You're not bad." 

"Uh, thank you." 

Alex let out a big smile. "Yeah, no problem. We still friends?" 

"I didn't know we stopped being friends." 

"Cool." As soon as she finished speaking, Castiel disappeared. She sighed. Then her phone rang. She answered. "Impeccable timing, Dean." 

"Uh, thanks? Listen. We need you to go talk to Mr. and Mrs. Freeman again, okay? Get the whole story again. We're not sure if they were lying about something or what. Get specifics."

"Yeah, okay. What should I be? FBI?" 

"Go Sheriff's Department. Call if there's any trouble." 

"Yeah, okay," Alex repeated. "Where do they live?" 

"Just two blocks from the motel. Uh, 1658 Hemingway Lane." 

"Okay. Cool. I'll go do that." Alex hung up and looked down at her. Deciding a dark gray sweatshirt wasn't technically typical police dress, she pulled it off. She dug through her bag, then through Dean's. She pulled on a blue plaid shirt over her black t-shirt, rolling up the sleeves. Then she grabbed one of his brown military jacket and pulled it on top. Now comfortably warm, she grabbed her ID and gun, and set out into the cold. She turned the collar up over her ears, screwing her face up against the wind. 

 

 **I** t was only a five minute walk. She hurried up the steps of the two story house, knocking on the door. It opened. "Hey." Alex looked up at the woman. "Mrs. Freeman?" 

"Yes. Who are you?" 

"I'm Amelia Collins. I work for the police department." Alex flashed her badge before stuffing it back in her pocket. "You're the mother of Thomas Freeman, correct? I'm investigating his disappearance." 

"There was a man from the FBI here recently. Are you working with him?" Mrs. Freeman ushered her into the house. 

"Uh, yeah. I mean, I haven't met him, but I was told there was an FBI agent in town." Alex looked around. "Now, tell me about your son." 

"Uh, yes. Please, sit down. I'll go get my husband." Mrs. Freeman disappeared farther into the house. Alex sat down on the couch, waiting politely. She ran her forefinger and thumb over her other forefinger, looking around. 

She heard the all familiar click of a gun cocking. "Who are you?" 

In one swift motion Alex stood up and pulled out her gun, spinning around. She saw a Mrs. Freeman standing behind a man, who Alex took to be Mr. Freeman. 

"Put the gun down," he commanded. 

"How about you do the same?" Alex suggested. 

"Don't mess with me." 

"My finger's not on the trigger, nor is my gun even cocked. Now. Put the gun down, and so will I." 

"Who are you?" The man lowered his gun, and Alex did the same. 

"I'm with the police." 

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am." Alex put her gun on the coffee table, and slowly pulled out her ID. She showed him. "See?" 

"No, you're not. I'm the sheriff. And you're not on the force." He raised his gun again. "Now. Put your hands where I can see them." 

Alex shook her head. "I'm telling you. I work with the police. Let me call my superior--"

"I _am_ the superior." Mr. Freeman tossed her something.

Alex slowly reached down to pick it up. She opened it. It looked like he was telling the truth. John Freeman, Douglas County Sheriff. It was legit. She tossed it back. "Ah. Well, howdy, sheriff." 

"Alicia, call Chip. Have him come with a squad car." 

Mrs. Freeman nodded and hurried off. 

"Sit." Sheriff Freeman motioned to the couch. Alex did, crossing her legs causally. "Why are you here?" 

"I told you. Your son is missing. I'm here looking for him." 

"You are, huh? What are you, a bounty hunter?" 

"Nope. Now, tell me. Your son, Thomas. He disappeared with Ben Young. They just vanished." 

"What do you know about my son?" 

"Not much. But I'm trying to figure it out. Now, tell me. Tell me anything that'll help me." 

"Nothing will help you. Impersonating an officer? That's five years, minimum. And I'm guessing you don't have a permit for this gun." He picked it up, studying it. "Nice one, but the way." 

"Thanks. My personal favorite, although my sawed-off is pretty impressive as well. Made it myself." 

"Hm. Illegal possession of a gun, minimum of a year. Illegal possession of a sawed-off? At least another ten. And now you're a suspect for murder." 

"Murder?" Alex let out an amused noise. "Right. Because if I killed the sheriff's son, I would go to his house and pretend to work for him. Obviously. And you have no proof my sawed-off is illegal." 

"Shut up. I'm sure there's a lot more I could charge you with. Long story short, you're going to jail for a long, long time." 

The door opened, and a tall man stepped through. He was wearing a police uniform. 

"Ah, Chip." Mr. Freeman stood up, motioning for Alex to do the same. "Here she is. Take her down to the station. I'll catch up." 

Chip nodded. He roughly grabbed her arm, and Alex tried to wrench her arm away. She couldn't. Knowing they'd search her, her free hand went immediately into her jacket pocket. Her fingers closed around the motel key. Chip led her out of the house and down the walk. Alex suddenly pretended to slip, falling the the ground. She landed in a snow bank, awkwardly but effectively hiding the key. 

"Get up." Chip pulled her to her feet and threw her against the car, pulling her hands behind her back, handcuffing her. He began he speech about her rights, but Alex ignored him. She let out a breath, smiling in disbelief. Damn those Winchesters.

She was forced into the backseat. Chip got in and drove off. Alex leaned against the bars, studying the officer. He looked young, with shortly cropped brown hair. His jawline was sharp, and condensation rose from his mouth with every breath. 

"If you're that cold, turn up the heat," Alex suggested dryly. She pressed her head against the fiberglass. "So, Chip, right?" 

He said nothing. 

Alex sighed. "Fine. It's been a while since I've been in the back of a police car. I mean, I've never been arrested before, but --" 

"You know everything you say will be used against you." 

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Just making conversation." However, Alex fell silent.

 

 **T** hey arrived at the police station a few minutes later. Her hands were handcuffed in front of her, and then she was roughly brought into a small interrogation room. A little while later, Sheriff Freeman appeared. He sat down in the chair across from her. "So. Why don't we start with your name, huh?" 

Alex said nothing. 

"You're going to have to tell me your name." He pulled out her police department ID. "This is a pretty convincing replica. Except ours," he slid it across the table, "say 'Douglas County Police.' " 

"Sorry. Gotta keep it generic." 

"How did you make it?" 

Alex shrugged. "Little bit of computer magic, and a nearby Staples." 

"So. What is your real name? Just so I know how to address you." 

"When do I get my phone call?" 

"This isn't Hollywood. You don't get one." 

Alex blinked. _Crap._ She just shrugged. 

"Now. Your name." No answer. "Okay, then tell me where you live." 

Alex didn't respond. 

"You're in enough trouble already, you hear? The last thing you need to add to your count is this." 

"Am I under arrest? 'Cause if I'm not, I'm leaving." She stood up to leave. 

The sheriff blocked her way. "Yes, you are under arrest. Now sit back down." 

Alex rolled her eyes, but did so. _Hurry up,_ she willed the Winchesters. They had to know something was wrong by now.

"What is your name?!" 

"Smart. Maxwell Smart. I work for Control and am currently trying to stop Kaos from taking over the world." 

The sheriff slapped the table, making Alex jump. His eyes were blazing, but he stood up and walked away. 

"What about my phone call?" Alex yelled after him. The door slammed shut, and Alex let out a loud sigh. 

 

 **S** he wasn't sure how long she sat there. Then, the door opened. The sheriff walked through. He looked calm and collected, but Alex knew that wouldn't last long. 

"What do you know about my son?" 

Alex scratched behind her ear, buying time. Then she leaned forward. "Thomas Freeman. Friends with Ben Young. Disappeared three days ago. Did your son have any fascination with the paranormal? Say, the Madison house?" 

"No. He didn't believe in that sort of thing." 

"The legend behind the Madison house. Henry killed his wife and daughters. They were buried, he was cremated. Was there another woman who died?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Has another woman disappeared within the past, oh, hundred and fifty years?" 

The sheriff snorted. "Yeah, there's plenty of missing people. That means nothing." 

"How about a young woman, long brown hair, round face, probably around twenty, twenty five years--"

"I'm sorry, this is not your investigation . . ." 

The door opened, and three men stepped through. Alex looked up, and relief flared inside her. It was Sam and Dean. 

"Sheriff," Chip said, glancing at Sam and Dean. "It's the FBI." Then he left. 

"Agents Lennon and Armstrong." Both Sam and Dean flashed their badges. 

Dean turned to Alex. "Anna." 

Alex said nothing, studying her hands. 

Dean continued. "We've been looking for you for a couple years. Maybe you remember us? From Houston? That was quite a trick you pulled." 

Alex let a half smile escape her lips.

Sam glared down at Alex. "We'll take it from here, Mr. Freeman." 

Mr. Freeman stood up, studying Sam. "My wife said an Agent Armstrong talked to her about Thomas." 

"Yes, that was me. It was a lucky thing I was in town, too. Anna Preston's been wanted for years." 

"Now," Dean added, "we're going to need anything you confiscated from her, along with full custody." 

"No! She knows something about my son--"

"She has been tracked through several different states," Dean cut in sharply. "That makes is a federal issue, Mr. Freeman. I promise you, we will keep looking into your son's disappearance, but at the moment, she takes priority." Dean lowered his voice. "Once she is taken care of, we will do everything we can to help your son." 

"She took him, didn't she! It was her." Mr. Freeman rushed forward, yanking Alex up out of her chair by her collar. Both Sam and Dean stepped forward, pulling them apart. 

Freeman, realizing what he did, stood a step back. "Just get her out of here," he growled. Sam roughly grabbed Alex by the arm. She pulled her lip up into a snarl. "We caught her impersonating an officer, and she has two counts of illegal possession of firearms." 

"We're going to need any items on her as well." 

"She only had one gun on her, but when we find her hideout, there's bound to be more." 

Dean blinked. "Was the gun a Colt?" 

"Yeah." 

"That's the only gun she has."

"What?" Freeman glanced at Alex. She just smiled. He let out a harsh breath. "Just go." 

Sam roughly shoved her towards the door. Alex followed. He led her out and put her in the back of the Impala. A few minutes later Dean came out, throwing her ID and gun in the back with her. "Smooth," he muttered. 

Alex shrugged, still slightly pissed at them. "You told me to go as a cop. I went as a cop. Why didn't you say he was the sheriff?"

"I didn't know, okay?" Dean angrily shook his head. "Great. Now you gotta lay low." 

Alex let out a loud breath and slumped against the seats. "Whatever. Took you long enough." 

Sam tossed her phone back to her. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I tried to call you. When you didn't answer, we got worried."

Alex unlocked the phone. _Two missed calls from Sam._ She grunted in acknowledgement of his statement.

 

 **T** he drive back to the motel was quiet. Alex sat down on the bed as Sam picked the lock to her handcuffs. She tossed them on the other bed. "Well, bright side is we get to keep those," she muttered, rubbing her wrists. "What'd you guys dig up on the Madison house?" 

"The girl you saw was Martha Benson. She was the housekeeper and also rumored mistress of Henry Madison." 

Alex grunted, acknowledging the fact she heard him. "Why do you think she's trapped there? And with who? Or is she the only one?" 

"We think she's the only one. The wife and daughters were sliced up, but old Henry shot himself." 

"So?" Alex reclined on the bed. 

"He shot himself two days later. On a Thursday." 

"So they were killed on a Tuesday. Wow, that's helpful." 

"Shut up and listen." 

"Hey. I was just arrested because of you," Alex snapped at Dean. "Maybe I'm not in the best of moods, okay?" However, she tried to calm herself down. "Fine. What else am I missing?" 

"She's the housekeeper. She worked Monday through Friday, every week. Chances are she would have noticed they were dead and gone." 

"Maybe Henry lied." 

"Listen. This is the best shot we got, okay?" Sam sounded exasperated. He closed his folder. "Fine. You stay here. Me and Dean will go check the place out again." 

Alex sighed. "Okay. Fine. Have fun, I guess." 

She watched them leave, falling back onto the bed. "Stupid Winchesters," she muttered out loud. Bored, she flipped on the tv and grabbed Dean's laptop. She logged on, and opened the internet. She played some game on some website for the rest of the afternoon. 

 

 **S** am and Dean came back around six. Dean tossed her a fast food bag. "Eat. Then we leave." 

"What?" Alex studied the men. 

Sam had a cut above his left eyebrow, and Dean was walking with a slight limp. His face was twisted into a scowl. "We are so gonna roast that Martha chick. Then we're gonna leave. Get packed." 

 

They did, and within five minutes they were on the road. They pulled in front of the graveyard, and got out. Flashlights in hand, they scoured the grounds. 

"Here!" Sam called. Alex and Dean hurried over. Sam was kneeling beside a stone, faintly marked Martha Benson. Sam and Dean unfolded their shovels and set to work. 

 

 **I** t took over an hour and all three's combined effort before they hit the coffin. Sam cracked it open, and Alex pulled herself out of the hole and onto the cold, frozen dirt. She tossed Dean the salt, and Sam the lighter fluid. They quickly salted and burned the bones, climbing out of the hole. Alex held out her frozen hands, seeking the warmth of the flames. 

As the fire died down, they began shoveling the dirt back into the grave. Alex helped spread fresh snow over the dirt to hide their tracks before they retraced their steps back to the car. 

 

 **A** lex was curled up in the backseat, head resting on her duffle. 

She had gotten about an hour of sleep when Dean pulled the Impala off to the side of the road. 

"You asleep?" Sam asked, looking back at her. 

"No." Alex shook her head. 

"Then take shotgun. I'm gonna try and get some shuteye." 

Alex did what he said. Sam lay down in the backseat, eyes closed. Alex rested her head against the cool glass, closing her eyes once again.


	13. Family Remains

**"W** hat are you doing?" Sam's tired voice roused her from her light sleep. 

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Dean asked. 

Alex looked over to see him sitting in the driver's seat, a pile of papers in his lap. A small flashlight was held in his teeth, illuminating the words on the page. He took the flashlight out of his mouth, holding it in his left hand. 

"Like you're looking for a job." 

"Yahtzee." 

Sam groaned, sitting up. "We just finished a job, like, two hours ago." 

"Adrenaline still pumping, I guess. So, what do you think? Cedar Rapids, Tulsa, or Chi-Town?"

"I'm all for hunting," Sam began. "I really am, but you've had us working cases nonstop for like a month now. We need sleep." 

Alex grunted, resting her head on the back of the seat. 

"Yeah, we can sleep when you're dead," Dean shot back lightly. 

"You're exhausted, Dean." 

"I'm good," Dean protested. 

"No, you're not. You're running on fumes, and you can't run forever." 

"And what am I running from?" Dean didn't look back at his brother. Instead, he kept shuffling through the papers. 

"From . . ." Sam glanced at Alex. She said nothing. He lowered his voice. "From what you told me. Or are we pretending that never happened?" 

"Stratton, Nebraska. Farm town." Dean held up a piece of paper. "A man gets hacked to death in a locked room inside a locked house. No signs of forced entry." 

Sam and Alex exchanged worried glances. "Sounds like a ghost," Sam reluctantly said. 

"Yeah, it does." 

Sam sighed loudly and laid back down in the backseat. Dean started the car, flicked on the lights, and drove off. 

 

 **T** hey spent the night at a different motel outside of town. Then, they started driving the next day. Dean drove the Impala through a hilly town. The snow has stopped, and the air was warmer than the days behind.

Suddenly they stopped moving. "Dammit!" Dean cursed, trying to accelerate. Alex looked out the window. They were trying to go up a large hill, but, by the looks of it, they were stuck. "Damn," Dean swore again. 

Alex chuckled. "We're stuck, aren't we." 

"Yeah." Dean glanced at his brother. "Get out and push." 

Sam rolled his eyes and let out an amused noise, but did as his brother asked. Alex got out as well. She circled around to the back of the car, planting her hands firmly on the trunk. Sam helped. They started pushing. Alex felt like she was doing very little, her feet slipping on the icy road. Dean slowly pushed on the accelerator, and the wheels spun. Alex kept pushing, and the car moved slightly. Then it stopped. Sam used his shoulder, trying to find a firm stance on the slippery ground. 

They tried for five minutes. Dean refused to let Alex drive, even though he was much stronger than her. Finally he gave up. "Get in the car," he called. 

Alex looked around. The street was pretty much deserted, and she found herself confused. However, she did what he asked. 

They got into the car. "What are we doing?" Alex asked. 

In response, Dean threw the car into reverse. He glanced over his shoulder and drove the car backwards down the hill. "Screw this hill," he said. "We'll just go around." 

And that they did. 

 

**Febuary 6th, 2009**

**Stratton, Nebraska**

**I** t was a six hour drive to Stratton, Nebraska. They stopped for a quick breakfast, and then Sam took back the front seat. Alex collapsed in the back, tired. It had been several days since she had gotten a good night's sleep. 

They pulled up to a large farm house less than half an hour later. All three got out. Alex stuck her gun filled with salt rounds into her holster, pocketing a second mag filled with real bullets. Then she followed them into the house. 

"Boy," Dean remarked, walking through the living room. "Three bedrooms, two baths, one homicide. This place is going to sell like hotcakes." He led them into the kitchen. He and Sam opened the different cabinets, looking to see what was inside. "Hey, check this out." Dean knocked on a part of the wall that had been patched. It was square, about two feet by two feet. It sounded hollow. "Huh." 

"It's probably a dumbwaiter," Sam explained. "All old houses had them." He turned back to the cabinets. 

"Know-it-all," Dean said quietly. 

"What?" Sam turned. 

"What?" 

"You said . . ." 

"What?" 

Sam shook his head. "Never mind." He turned his back, pulling out the EMF. 

Dean let out a smirk, and Alex held back a chuckle. 

 

 **T** here was nothing to be found downstairs, nor in the two bedrooms upstairs. They entered the third. 

"Well, no bloodstains, fresh coat of paint, it's a bunch of bubkes." 

"Needle's all over the place," Sam said quietly, looking down at the EMF.

"Yeah. Power lines." Dean motioned out the window. 

Sam sighed frustratedly and put away the device. "Great." He opened a small closet door. "Uh . . ." 

Dean glanced at it. "Well, that's super disturbing." 

Alex walked around Sam to see what is was. "Ugh." It was a large doll head. The hair had been pulled out, and the cloudy glass eyes were wide open. 

"Think it got left behind?" Sam asked, barely hiding his disgust. 

"By who?" Dean countered. "Unless Bill Gibson liked to play with doll heads."

Sam closed the closet door. The sound of car caught their attention. All three went over to the window. A large SUV and a moving truck pulled up to the side of the house. "Uh-oh." 

Dean looked over at his brother. "I thought you said this place was for sale."

"Apparently it's not." 

"Come on." Dean led them back through the house and out the front door. 

"Can I help you?" A man walked towards them. A woman, presumably, his wife, stood behind. There was also a boy, a girl, and another man. 

"Yes." Sam hurried down the stairs. "Are you the new owner?" 

"Get to the car," Dean whispered to Alex. 

She nodded and hurried around the house. She got into the backseat, waiting. 

Less than a minute later, Sam and Dean came back. They drove off. "What happened?" Alex asked. 

"We convinced them to stay at a motel for the night. Hopefully we'll be done by then."

"Okay. Now where?" 

"Motel. Then me and Sam are going to do some canvassing." 

 

 **A** nd that's what they did. Alex was dropped off at the motel with Dean's laptop. Sam and Dean changed into their suits and left. Alex flipped on the tv. 

 

 **D** ean and Sam brought back dinner, and Alex dug in. "What'd you find?" she asked them. 

"Uh, Gibson's wife died during childbirth, daughter hung herself twenty years later," Dean said. "Housekeeper said she's heard rustling in the walls like rats, but never seen any." 

"So, ghost then." 

"Yup. Sounds like it," Sam agreed. "We'll take care of it tonight." 

"Kay." 

Little was said the rest of the meal. Sam did some more research on his laptop while Dean and Alex watched tv. 

 

 **T** hen, around 10:30, they left. Alex grabbed her gun, closing the motel door behind her. They got into the car and drove. 

Fifteen minutes later they pulled up the driveway to the farmhouse. "Crap," Dean groaned. The lights to the farmhouse were on. "So, now what?" 

Sam let out a breath. "We could tell them the truth," he suggested. 

Dean looked over at his brother. "Really?" 

Sam actually laughed. "No. Not really." 

Dean sighed, putting the car into park. "Well, we'll stake out for a while." 

Sam and Alex silently agreed. 

Suddenly a scream ripped through the air. All three immediately threw open their car doors and ran up to the house. Sam knocked urgently on the door. A man answered, and they forced their way in. 

"We heard screams." Dean stopped, looking around. "What's going on?" 

The five people Alex had seen that afternoon were standing in the dark living room. "Oh, you three!" the dad exclaimed. "Did you touch my daughter?" 

"What?" Dean looked over at the girl. "No." 

Sam and Alex shook their head as well. 

"Who are you guys?" the dad continued. 

"Relax, please." Sam stepped forward. "You have a ghost." 

"A ghost." 

"I told you!" the girl exclaimed. She looked terrified. 

"It's the girl!" the boy added. 

The dad turned to face them. "Both of you, relax." He turned back to Sam. "What you are playing at?" 

"Your family's in danger," Dean explained quickly. "You need to get out of the house now." That's when the lights went out. Alex jumped.

"What the hell?" the other man exclaimed. 

"Nobody move," Dean commanded. 

A howl filled the air. "Buster!" the boy yelled. The dad and the other man hurried out of the house, followed by Sam and Dean. Alex trailed after. 

"Buster?" the dad called. "Buster. Buster!" 

"What the hell?" 

Alex turned at the other man's voice. On the side of the house, two red words were painted. Alex realized it was blood. It read, _Too late._

"Buster?" The rest of the family had come out onto the porch. 

"Go back inside," the dad ordered. "Now!" 

Dean turned to him. "We're not the bad guys," he insisted, "but you're in danger." 

"First thing's first," Sam added. "You got to get your family out of here." 

"Head to the motel I was talking about. You'll be safe there," Dean finished. He hurried over to his car. 

"What are you two going to do?" the dad asked, following. 

"Oh, no!" Dean exclaimed. "Oh, come on." He kicked at his tires. "Oh, come on!"

As Alex approached, she saw that the tires had been slashed. "Damn," she hissed. 

Sam hurried around to the trunk. He stopped. "Dude, the guns are gone. So is the . . ." he looked over at Dean, shocked. "Basically everything's gone." 

"Brian. Truck's no good," the other man called, who Alex now assumed to be the Brian's brother. 

"Ted's right," Brian agreed. "Both the tire's slashed." 

"What kind of a ghost messes with a man's wheels?!" Dean asked angrily. 

"What's going on," the girl asked from the porch. Then she screamed. "She's there! She's there!" She pointed behind them towards the woods. 

"Where?!" the mom asked, pulling her daughter tight. 

"She was right there in the woods!" 

Dean turned to Sam. "What's a ghost doing outside?" he hissed, confused. 

"You want to stay and find out?" 

"Everybody inside!" Dean ordered. 

"Are you crazy?" Ted exclaimed. "We need to get the hell out of here!"

"In what?" Dean snapped. "This ghost is _hunting_ us. Everybody back inside. Now!" Alex hurried into the house, and the others followed. 

Dean hurried into the kitchen and came back with a box of kitchen salt. He started pouring it into a large circle. "What are you doing?" Ted asked. 

"Whatever's outside, it can't get in the circle. As long as the salt line is unbroken, its the safest place you can be." Dean finished the circle, tossing the box aside. 

"Safe from ghosts?" the dad asked unbelievingly. 

"Yes, as a matter of fact." 

"Okay, I'm not listening anymore. Come on." The dad stepped out of the circle and headed for the door. "I got to get my family out of here. Let's go." 

Dean stopped him. "Nobody's going anywhere until we kill this thing," he said quietly. 

"Sir, please." Sam tried to reason with him. "This is what we do. Just . . . trust us." 

"You hunt ghosts?" the boy asked. 

"Uh, yeah," Alex nodded. 

"Like Scooby-Doo?" 

"I wish." Alex turned back to Dean. 

Sam walked over to the young girl. "You saw her outside, right? Does she look like either of these girls?" He held out two pictures. 

The daughter studied the pictures closely. "Her." The daughter pointed to one of them. "She was paler and a lot dirtier, but that was her." 

"So it's the daughter." Sam turned back to Dean and Alex. 

"The girl in the picture -- she's dead?" the girl exclaimed. 

"She killed herself inside this house," Sam explained. 

"So, what. The maid got her story wrong?" Dean suggested. "Rebecca wasn't cremated?" 

"Unless her spirit's just attached to something inside this house."

"Yeah," Alex agreed. "But, there's like nothing. We looked ourselves. Well, there was that creepy doll head." 

"Yeah, well, she hung herself in the attic, right?" Dean looked up at Sam. "Maybe there's something in there." 

"You two wanna babysit? I'll check it out." 

"Look," Ted interrupted them. "I don't care who hung themselves where. Maybe something is going on, but --" 

"It's a spirit, man," Dean cut him off. 

"No, it's just some backwoods hillbilly bitch, and I'm not going about to sit around and wait for her to go all _Deliverance_ on my ass." Ted walked towards the door. 

"Well, nobody's going anywhere." Dean stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

"Stop me," Ted dared. 

"Listen, man." Dean lowered his voice. "I've got a gun. You don't get your ass back in that circle, you're gonna have yourself a third hole." 

Ted glared at Dean, but did as he said.

"Dude," Sam whispered to his brother. "You don't have a gun." 

"And?" Dean scoffed. "I'm not letting that bastard or anyone else die tonight." 

"Dean, wait." Alex stepped towards him. "I have a gun." 

Sam glanced at her. "Salt?" 

Alex checked the cartridge. "Uh, no. Just normal bullets. Sorry." 

"Whatever." 

Sam left. Dean and Alex waited, neither talking. 

"Hey, Fonzie." Ted spoke up. "This indestructible force field of salt . . . have to be kosher stuff, or what?" 

"Knock it off, Ted," the mom scolded. 

There was a faint sound, and both Alex and Dean sprang to alertness. "Sh . . ." Dean warned, motioning for Alex to get back into the circle. 

"What was that?" the daughter whispered. 

"Be quiet, Kate." 

The closet door swung open, and a ragged girl stepped out. 

"Mom," Kate whimpered. 

"All right, everybody stay calm," Dean said. "She's a ghost. She can't come in the circle." 

The girl staggered closer. She stopped near the salt line, looking down at it. A large knife appeared in her left hand, glinting in the moonlight. For several seconds, the ghost continued to stare down at the salt. Then, she stepped over it. 

Alex was shocked. She glanced at Dean; his face reflected hers. 

"I thought you said ghosts couldn't cross the circle!" the mom exclaimed. 

"They can't." Alex could tell Dean was doing his best to stay calm. "She's not a ghost." 

"Shoot her!" Ted yelled. "Shoot her!" 

"About that . . ."

Alex whipped out her gun, flicking off the safety and cocking it. "Dean," she said.

"What?" Dean stepped in front of the family, protecting them. 

"Should I shoot her?!" Alex snapped. 

The girl stepped forward. Then she charged at Alex, knife raised, a feral scream escaping her lips. Alex pulled the trigger. 

The girl fell dead at her feet, a bullet through her skull. Alex quickly retreated several steps, just in case the bullet didn't kill her. But the girl didn't move. She glanced back at Dean, asking a silent question. _Did I do the right thing?_

Dean gave the smallest nod of his head. 

Footsteps rushed into the room. Sam slid to a halt, flashlight flickering over Alex, Dean, and the dead girl on the floor. "What happened?" he exclaimed. 

"It wasn't a ghost," Dean stated bluntly. 

"So it's just a girl?" Sam knelt down besides the body and rolled her over. He pried the knife from her fingers, tossing it aside. 

"It's not just a girl." Dean walked over to look down at the body. "It's psycho Nell. I'm telling you man -- humans." 

The flashlight beam rested on the girl's head, showing the bullet hole exactly between the eyes. Sam looked up at Alex, who was still holding her gun. "Nice shot, by the way." 

"Thanks." 

"You . . . you just killed a girl," Ted finally stammered out. 

"Yup." Alex cleared her gun, sticking it back in her holster. "A, uh, crazy girl." She stood beside Dean. "So, who is she?" 

"I don't know. The daughter Rebecca?" Dean suggested. "Maybe she didn't hang herself." 

"Dude, no." Sam shook his head. "She'd have to be like fifty years old by now." 

Alex grunted in agreement. 

"Well, I don't know," Dean defended. "What'd you find in the attic?" 

"Not much. Some old junk. I found Rebecca's diary. That's about it." 

"Hm." Dean looked down at the body. "Let's get her out of her." 

Alex watched as he and Sam dragged the body out on to the porch. Then they came back in. "So how'd she get here?" she dared to ask. "If she's not a ghost, how'd she get into the closet?" She cast an uneasy glance over at the closet door.

Dean and Sam exchanged glances and walked over to it. "Get them somewhere safe," he advised Alex, throwing a look towards the others. "We're gonna find our guns." 

Alex wordlessly handed him hers. Then she turned to the family. "How far is town from here?" 

"A five minute drive. Why?" 

"Cause that's where you're going. God knows what else is here." Alex led them out of the house. "Check into that motel, okay? We'll finish things up here." 

She watched them hurry down the road. Once they were out of sight, she turned back into the house. 

Sam and Dean were checking out the closet. "Here." Dean pulled away a loose board. It revealed a long, dusty passageway between the walls. 

"I'll, uh, stay here," Alex smiled nervously. 

Dean and Sam rolled their eyes. "The chick's dead," Dean pointed out, but let her have her way. They disappeared into the wall. 

Alex paced nervously, feeling vulnerable without her gun. Something came flying out of the wall, and Alex jumped. "Start reading!" Sam yelled. 

 

 **I** t was ten minutes before Sam and Dean came back. "You missed a lot," Dean grumbled. 

Alex put down the journal Sam had thrown at her. "I don't do small spaces with psychotic children. What'd you find?" 

"Her kitchen." 

Alex narrowed her eyes, but regretfully asked what he meant. 

Dean didn't answer her question directly. "Here. Brought you a present." He tossed something at her. 

Alex jumped back, letting out a cry of surprise and disgust. It was a dead rat. "Ew. No thanks. Did you find your weapons? More importantly, can I have my gun back?" 

"No. Maybe they're not in the house." 

"But, uh, I skimmed through the journal," Alex cut in. "And I'm pretty sure that girl was Rebecca's daughter." 

"Hm?" Sam held out his hand, and Alex gave the journal to him. 

"Yeah. This whole thing talks about how she was pregnant, and how she was so ashamed of being pregnant."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Jeez. Rent _Juno_ and get over it. Did it say why she might have killed herself afterwards?" 

"Uh, probably because her dad called her, and I quote, 'a dirty little whore,' and said he was going to lock the baby up." 

Sam pulled his face into one of disgust as he realized what she was talking about. 

Alex looked over at him. "Mm-hmm." 

"What?" Dean didn't get it. 

Neither Sam nor Alex said anything. 

"Oh. Gross." 

"Yup." 

"So the daddy was the baby-daddy too?" 

"Uh, seems like it." 

Sam nodded. "The man was a monster, Dean." 

"Wow. Sounds like a story ripped from an Australian headline. Humans, man." 

Alex grunted in agreement. "She's probably been locked up her entire life." 

"Okay, so what, she's been caged like an animal then busts out and ganks poor old dad? Slash granddad?" 

"I guess." 

"Well," Dean finally admitted. "I can't say I blame her." 

Sam sighed. "I'm sure her life was hell, Dean. But that doesn't get her a free pass for murder." 

"Like you know what Hell's like," Dean shot back. 

Sam fell into silence. 

"Anyways." Alex broke the tense air."So where else would he keep her? If the guns weren't in that hole, she probably had another." 

"Yeah." Sam nodded approvingly. "I mean, the kid's got to eat, right? So, unless he fed her through the closet . . ." 

"Dumbwaiter." Dean hurried into the kitchen. Sam and Alex followed. She watched as Dean rammed his elbow into the drywall. Sam helped him, and soon they removed the patch over the old dumbwaiter shaft. 

"Could've kept her hidden her down there for years. Kept her fed, no one would ever know." 

"So you think our stuff's down there?" 

"Worth a shot." Sam peered down it. 

Alex walked over, looking down. "Gross." She recoiled at the stench. 

"Welcome to the job." Dean turned to Sam. "I'll go down. You stay up." 

Sam nodded, and Dean crawled into the wall. Alex watched as he disappeared from view. 

A minute later they heard a shout from Dean. "Found 'em. Start looking for someway to haul 'em up!" 

"Okay," Sam called back down. He turned to Alex. "You heard what he said." 

Alex looked around the kitchen. She dug through the cabinets, and then hurried into the hall. She came back with several sheets and a basket. "Will this work?" 

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Dean?" 

No answer. "Dean!" 

There was a single gunshot from below. 

"Dean! What's going on?" 

"I'm okay, I'm okay." Dean's voice came from below. "I, I was jumped." 

"Jumped?" Sam exchanged a glance with Alex. "By what?" 

"Another one." 

"There were two?" 

"Yeah. Just, uh, let's get out of here, okay? Help me get the weapons up." 

Alex quickly tied the sheets together and lowered the picnic basket. A few seconds later there was a tug, and Sam pulled it back up. It was full. "Put these away." 

Alex gathered the guns in her arms and hurried out the door. She quickly stowed the shotguns in the weapons box, stashing a pistol in her holster. Then she hurried back inside.

 

 **W** ithin ten minutes, they had everything, and Dean crawled out of the hole. "The body's still down there," he said, running a hand over his face. "God, I hate this." He looked at the stock pile of weapons on the floor. Alex grabbed another handful, and walked back outside. Dan and Sam followed. 

 

 **E** verything was put away. Dean leaned against the car. "I need new tires," he grumbled. "Fucking hell. If they weren't already dead, I'd kill them!" He yelled the last few words. 

"How are we going to get new tires at this time of night?" Alex agreed. "I'm not spending the night in that house." She looked at the car's clock. Three in the morning. "If you need me I'll be in the backseat." 

 

 **S** he tried to sleep, but no sleep came. Every time she closed her eyes, images of the crazed girl filled her mind. She ended curling up in the seat. The door opened and Dean slid in next to her. "You okay?" 

"Yeah." Alex tried to act nonchalant. 

"Hm." Dean looked over at her. "You sure?" 

"Yeah. I mean, I'm probably going to see a lot worse than that, so . . ." She ended with a shrug. 

 

 **T** he next morning the family returned in a rental car. Dean had four tires driven up there, and he quickly changed all of them. He jacked down the car, while Sam walked over to the family. "There were two," he told them. "We put the boy's body next to the girls." 

Dean finished, and walked over to them. "Thanks for the head start." 

"Why doesn't it surprise me you guys don't like the police?" Brian asked humorously. 

"It's sort of a mutual-appreciation thing, really," Sam responded lightly. 

"Well, thank you." He shook Dean's hand. 

"Thank you," the wife repeated. 

"You okay?" Dean asked her. 

"No, we're the opposite of okay," she replied, looking down at the ground. "But we're together." 

Brian reached out and took his wife's hand. 

Dean nodded, then tossed the jack to Alex. She circled around to the trunk, closed the weapon's box, and put the jack on top. She saw Sam and Dean getting into the car, and she did the same. They drove off.

 

 **T** hey stopped at the motel only to get their things and change. Dean changed out of his clothes and into a black shirt. He pulled his leather jacket on over it, tossing his green jacket and shirt into his bag. Sam did the same. Then he pulled on some thin green sweater before pulling a heavy pale green jacket on. 

Alex just put on Dean's _Hell Hazers II_ t-shirt. Then, remember how cold it was outside, grabbed one of Dean's jackets. She situated her necklace under her shirt, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Then they hit the road again. They stopped for breakfast in town at an IHOPs. Alex slid into the booth next to Sam, and Dean sat across from him. "I'm hungry," Alex groaned, resting her head on the table. "And tired." 

"You'll live," Sam grumbled. He slid the menu against her face, and Alex groaned dramatically. 

She ended up ordering chocolate chip waffles. Sam got bacon and eggs, and Dean got strawberry pancakes. Nothing much was said. At one point Dean pulled out the folder of papers he had brought in, but Alex stopped him. "Dude. No more cases until after lunch." 

Sam voiced his agreement. "We need a break, Dean. Just give us a few hours." 

 

 **T** hey kept driving. Around one o'clock, Dean pulled through a burger joint drive-thru. They ordered food, then drove away. Dean eventually pulled the Impala to a stop on an empty road under a bridge. Sam got out, distributing the burgers. Dean leaned against the concrete half-wall, and Alex sat on top of it, leaning her back against a thick pillar. Sam handed her a burger, which she accepted. 

Dean unwrapped his food, looked down at it for a second, then rewrapped it. Alex and Sam exchanged a worried glance. Dean never turned down food. "You okay?" 

Dean looked up. "You know, I felt for those sorry sons of bitches back there. Lifelong torture turns you into something like that." 

"You were in Hell, Dean," Sam reminded. "Look. Maybe you did what you did there, but you're not them. They were barely human." 

"Yeah, you're right. I wasn't them. I was worse." Alex couldn't see Dean's face, but the pain in his voice was clear. "They were animals, Sam, defending their territory. Me? I did it for the sheer pleasure." 

"What?" Sam looked shocked. He glanced at Alex, who furrowed her brow in disbelief. 

"I enjoyed it, Sam. They took me off the rack, and I tortured souls, and I liked it. All those years, all that pain. Finally getting to deal some out yourself. I didn't care who they put in front of me. Because that pain I felt, it just slipped away. No matter how many people I save, I can't change that. I can't fill that hole. Not ever." 

Sam blinked, then looked down at his food. 

"Well, you're right," Alex said quietly. "You can't change that. Listen, Dean." She hesitated, unsure how to continue.

Either Dean was waiting for her to finish her thought, or he didn't mind that she stopped talking, because he didn't press her. "Whatever." He unwrapped his food once again, looking pitifully down at it. 

Alex took a bite of hers. Seeing Dean start to wrap his up again, she kicked him gently in the side with her food. "What happened happened. You can't change it by starving yourself. Eat up." It may not have been the kindest way to put it, but Dean did as she said. Sam glanced at her, the slightest hint of gratefulness in his eyes. 

The rest of the meal was in silence. 

Just as they were getting back in the car, Alex's phone rang. "Hello? Bobby?" 

"Hey girl. You close?" 

"Yeah, I'm doing fine, thanks for asking." Alex rolled her eyes. "We're in Nebraska. Why?" 

"Nebraska. How fast can you get here?" 

"Dunno. A couple hours. Why?" 

"I need your help. We've got three hunters working a strange case, and we've got squat. It's always good to have an extra set of eyes." 

Alex sighed, rubbing her head. "Yeah, uh, I'll talk to Dean. We'll, uh, I'll be there." She hung up. 

"What was that about?" 

Alex shook her head wearily. "Bobby needs some help. Can, uh, can you give me a lift?" 

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "It's not that far," Sam added. 

Dean nodded. "Yeah, sure. Whatever." 

They got in the car and drove off. 

 

 **S** ix hours later, Alex was walking through the front door. "Bobby. I'm back." 

"About time. Get our ass in the study." 

Alex rolled her eyes, but did as he said. "A little gratitude next time," she grumbled, sitting down on the couch. "What's your guys' problem?" She glanced over at the three other men in the kitchen. She recognized Felix and Oscar, but the other she didn't know. "Who's the new kid?" 

"Carton." Bobby glanced up. "He's been a hunter for a while. And you already know Felix and Oscar." 

"Yes." Alex knew them from several months ago, when she was still living with Bobby. The pair of them usually teamed up together, although sometimes Felix would work alone. 'Felix' was just a nickname; his given name was Tony. And that fact that he had teamed up with Oscar gave them the nickname of 'The Odd Couple.' 

Bobby broke into her thoughts. "Anyways." 

"Yeah. What are we dealing with?" 

"We don't know," Felix said. "There's been a string of missing people, but we've never found any bodies." 

Alex huffed. "So they might not even be dead. Someone could have just kidnapped them." 

"No, we found old bones. Lots of them." 

"Yay." Alex glanced over at her stuff. "I'm gonna go put my stuff away. I'll be back down in a few minutes. Then how about food, huh? I'm hungry." 

"Okay." Bobby turned back to his books. "Got you something you might like. I put it in your room."

"Uh, cool." Not waiting for another response, she hurried upstairs. She flung her bag in the room, looking around. "What. The. Hell." She walked over to her bookcase, a confused smile growing across her face. "That's a skull. That's a vampire skull." 

Sure enough, sitting on her bookcase, sitting on a stand, was a vampire skull, the extra teeth sticking out over the normal teeth. Alex shook her head disbelievingly, not even knowing what to say. She went back downstairs.


	14. After School Special

**I** t had been several weeks. Alex had just gotten out of the shower when she heard her phone ring. Rapidly pulling on her clothes, she nudged the chair away from the bathroom door. It was there for a good reason; not only did the door not actually lock, but Bobby actually had a bookshelf in the bathroom filled with books. The last thing Alex wanted was for Bobby to burst in without knocking 'cause he needed a stupid book. Alex hurried down to her room and grabbed her phone. "Hello. This be Alex."

"Yep. I know."

Alex grinned. "Hey Dean. What's up?"

"Not much. But, uh, there's this case and we may need you."

"Hm. Tell me what you know. I'll see if I remember." Alex sat down on the bed, combing through her wet hair.

"No, that's not what we need your help on."

"Oh. Then what is it?"

"Sam thinks there's a case at a high school in Indiana. Figured since you're a teenager, you might have some insight into teenage-y things."

"Sure." Alex lowered her voice into a stage whisper. "Anything to get me away from Bobby."

Dean chuckled. "Sure thing. Be there sometime tonight."

"Great."

They hung up, and Alex went to dry her hair.

 

 **B** obby was downstairs. "You busy?"

"Nope. Dean's coming to get me sometime tonight. He and Sam got a case in a high school and thought I could be helpful."

Bobby grunted. "Well, the Marquis broke down yesterday. Get out there and see what's wrong."

"Bobby. I know nothing about cars."

"You got to learn sometime," he grumbled, but stood up. "Fine. I'll go look at the damn car. Meanwhile, you can find my notes on those shishigas. Blue binder."

"Fine." Alex watched Bobby go outside before she sighed. Not seeing it in the study, she hurried upstairs to look in the book rooms. There were several blue binders stacked against the wall, and she knelt next to them. They were all Bobby's notes. She found the one on shishigas, and carried it back downstairs. She tossed it on the table then went back upstairs.

 **I** t took her barely half an hour to get packed. All of her clothes easily fit into the bag, as well as most of Dean's shirts and jackets that she had kept. She threw her gun on top before zipping up the duffle.

 

 **E** vening came slowly. Bobby had her reading about werewolves and ghost possessions, and Alex was bored. That's when the knock on the door came. Then footsteps echoed down the hallway. Sam and Dean appeared in the study. Sam was wearing a thick brown coat over a red plaid, and Dean was wearing his leather jacket. "Hey."

"Hey." Alex stood up, stretching her back. "About time."

"Bobby." Sam dipped his head towards the hunter.

"Hey boys." Bobby stood up. "It's about damn time you got here. She's been driving me insane for days with all that pacing and whining."

Alex chuckled lightly, studying shoes.

"Well, we'll take her off your hands for a while," Dean joked. He turned to Alex. "You packed?"

"Yeah. My bag's upstairs." Alex ran up and got it.

When she came back down, the three men were in the kitchen, holding beers. Alex dropped her bag on the ground. "I thought we were leaving."

"We've been driving for six hours. Give us a break." Dean took a long sip of his beer.

Alex walked over to the fridge and pulled out a Coke. "Fine." She cracked it open and took a swig.

 

 **T** hey left fifteen minutes later. Alex threw her bag in the back seat, and they drove off. "So, a high school case?" Alex asked, leaning over the bench seat.

"Yeah. Sounds like possession." Sam glanced over at her. "Apparently this girl, April, drowned a girl in the toilet at school. She claims she didn't want to, but she couldn't stop herself."

"Hm. Okay. Cool." Alex leaned back in the seat. "Drowned in the toilet. Nasty."

Dean grunted his agreement. "Yeah. It's about a eight hour drive. We'll be there sometime early tomorrow morning. We'll talk with the chick, then go from there."

"Hm." Alex stared out the window. Dean turned on the music, effectively ending the conversation.

 

**March 14th, 2009**

**Fairfax, Illinois**

**A** lex slept a little during the car ride. They arrived in Fairfax, Illinois, sometime around four in the morning, and Dean checked them in. Alex fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. For all she knew, Sam and Dean stayed up.

The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake. "Right, Alex?"

Alex rolled over, looking up at Dean. "What am I agreeing to?" she asked tiredly.

"Get up."

Alex did as he said. She sat up, letting out a huge yawn. "Why?"

"Breakfast."

"Yay." Alex shuffled out of bed, grabbed her bag, and shuffled her way into the bathroom. She changed into jeans and a clean white shirt, and walked back out. "Okay. Breakfast sounds good."

Dean and Sam were already dressed, and Alex looked at the clock. She frowned. "How long have you guys been up?"

"A few hours."

Alex looked at the clock again. It was barely seven. She rolled her eyes and collapsed back on the bed. "It's too early," she groaned. "You have got to be kidding me."

Sam snickered, and Dean just rolled his eyes. "Listen. Either we go eat at a diner, or I'm bringing in breakfast tacos."

Alex pulled herself to her feet. "Let me get me shoes."

 

 **A** fter breakfast, they swung by the motel. Sam changed into white scrubs, while Dean and Alex stayed in their everyday clothes. Alex, growing cold, grabbed Dean's jacket out of her bag. Then they left. They drove down to the mental hospital where this April girl was being held, and Sam went in. Dean and Alex stayed by the car, waiting.

"See you later." Sam hurried into the building.

"Yep."

"Yep," Alex echoed. She leaned against the car's frame, studying the array of cars in the parking lot before them.

"So," Dean began.

"So," Alex agreed.

"What was that thing Bobby needed your help for?"

Alex shrugged. "Felix and Oscar couldn't figure out what they were hunting in Colorado. Carton joined, and they came to Bobby. Then he called me in. With the five of us, we, well, I, figured out it was Gougou."

Dean scoffed. "A what? Is that even real?"

"Yeah. It's American Indian in origin, described as a giant female who carried people off in her sack --"

"Like Santa. Or, uh, Krampus."

"Sort of . . . didn't you work a case where you thought it was a Krampus?"

"Yep. We almost died."

Alex laughed at his casualness. "Oh, if that's all. But yeah, like Santa. But she eats the people she catches, and disguises herself as a boulder until it's too late. Unless she lives in a river, but since they were hunting her near the Rockies, the boulder was a safe guess."

"Hm. How did you reach this conclusion of a, a Gougou."

"Well, since there was no bodies found, there wasn't any way to look for, you know, an MO, so we turned to the neighbors. There had been reported minor earthquakes during the times of the attacks."

"So, giant moles."

Alex let out an amused breath. "Yeah, that crossed my mind. But then I found the legend of the Gougou, which said that it's footsteps shook the earth each time it hunted. Bobby kind of took it from there."

"Hm. Cool." Dean stuck his hands into his pockets. Their conversation died.

 

 **A** bout an hour later, Sam came back out. He hurried over to Alex and Dean, who had retired to the inside of the car a while ago. Sam got into the passenger seat.

Dean looked over at him. "So?"

"I think she's telling the truth. I mean, the way she talked about being there mentally but not physically -- kind of sounds like demonic possession to me."

"Kind of?"

"She didn't see any black smoke or smell any sulphur."

"Maybe it's not a demon," Dean suggested. "I mean, kids can be vicious."

"Well, I mean, we're already here. We may as well check out the school."

"Right." Dean sounded reluctant. "The school."

"What?" Sam immediately went on the defense.

"Truman High, home of the Bombers."

"What's your point?"

"I mean, we went there for like, a month a million years ago. Why are you so jazzed to be back?"

"I'm not," Sam insisted. "I just think it's worth looking into."

"All right, well, what's our cover? FBI, Homeland Security? Swedish exchange students?"

Alex snickered, and Dean glanced back at her through the mirror, smiling.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. I got an idea."

"Ooh. An idea." Dean put the car into drive, and they pulled out into the street. "Mind sharing?"

"Yeah. Once we get back to the motel."

Dean rolled his eyes, but didn't push him.

 

 **B** ack at the motel, Sam made a beeline for his laptop. Alex plopped down on the bed, flicking on the tv. She let out a loud sigh. "Bored."

"Shut up."

Alex glanced at Sam. "Sammy," she whined. "Be nice."

"Leave Sam alone." Dean looked up from his laptop, and Alex snorted, but did as he said. She didn't miss the smile that passed between the two hunters.

 

 **A** while later, Sam spoke. "Okay."

"You got a plan?" Dean closed his laptop.

"Yeah. I found a way for us to get in. They're looking for a substitute gym teacher; the other one's will be getting married in Massachusetts."

"Dean." Alex volunteered him.

Dean just grunted. "Okay. And?"

"And that makes you Substitute Coach Jim Roth." Sam spun his laptop so Dean could see. "You graduated at the U of M, top of your class, got a scholarship for football, in which you were one of their best quarterbacks."

Dean snorted. "Great. I'm going to be a gym teacher?"

"Yep."

"And what about you?"

"Well, as of five minutes ago, their janitor, Mr. Hanford, just won a trip to Orlando, Florida." Sam scrolled through something on his page. "And a certain David Koenig, a grad of the University of Phoenix, will be taking his place. Applications all sent, they should be pretty impressed with both our resumes. If we get the job, we start sometime next Monday."

Alex paused, thinking. Today was Wednesday. Right. "And what about me?"

"You're going to school."

Alex blinked. "Obviously."

"I pulled the school records of an Alex Landau from Newtown, Pennsylvania. She's a junior. Now so are you. She's a homeschooler, but as of now, this Alex Landau is transferring to Truman High."

"Wonderful. When do I start?"

"Thursday." Sam tossed her a piece of paper. "That's your electives sheet. Choose the classes you want to take."

Alex took the paper. "Thursday. That's tomorrow."

"I know."

Alex looked from Dean to Sam. "That's tomorrow," she repeated. "How am I suppose to have everything I need by tomorrow?"

Dean shrugged. "You don't need anything."

"Binders, pencils, notebooks, books," Alex counted off the things on her fingers. "Backpack?"

"We'll get you some notebooks and a pencil. You can use Sam's backpack. There. You're set."

Sam voiced his protest. "She can't use my backpack."

"Why not?" You're not using it." Dean motioned to the large black backpack that was currently sitting against the wall.

"My clothes and stuff are in there."

"Put them in the dresser. That's why it's there." Seeing Sam's face, he added, "You're the one who wanted to take this case, and the one who thought Alex would be useful."

Sam frowned. "Fine. Whatever."

Dean walked over to her. "We'll go find your stuff after lunch, okay?"

"Kay." Alex fell back on the bed. She took a closer look at the electives. "Pencil." One hit her in the side. "Ow," she complained. She heard Dean snicker. She sat up, flipping onto her stomach. "What classes do I, or, Alex Landau, have to take?" she asked.

"On the back."

"On the back," Alex repeated. "Naturally." She flipped it over. On the back, Sam had scrawled all requirements for the school. "So, I'm only going to school for a week or so?"

"Until the case is done," Sam said impatiently.

"Kay." Alex flipped the paper back over, filling out her schedule. Then she rolled it up and threw it at Sam. "Here."

Sam looked at it. "Mythology, Latin, Criminology, -- Creative Writing?"

Alex shrugged. "I enjoy writing."

Sam just grunted. He glanced down at the paper, then started typing on his laptop. A few minutes later, he nodded. "Okay. That's your new schedule."

"Awesome."

 

 **A** fter lunch, they drove down to Kmart. Dean led them into through the doors. "Okay," he said. "What do you need?"

Alex looked down at the makeshift list. "I have eight actual classes. So, probably eight notebooks or folders or whatever and some pencils."

Dean nodded. "You got twenty bucks."

Alex just huffed. "Oh, that much?" she muttered dryly.

"I'm going to go see if there's anything we need." Sam excused himself and walked off.

Alex started walking, looking around. Dean followed. "Hey. Over here." Dean motioned to a small row. It was filled with notebooks and other office supplies.

Alex nodded. "Nice." She wandered down the row, looking for the notebooks. She grabbed a small pack of wooden pencils for a buck and a half, and tossed them to Dean. He caught it. Alex stopped by the notebooks. There was a large stack of the one subject notebooks for 1.35 a piece. Folders cost over two buck a piece. There were also some five subject notebooks for 6.99. Alex quickly weighed her choices. She picked out two of the five subject notebooks. "Here," she said. "This way I only need two of them, and they have folders dividing the different sections. Win-win."

Dean grunted in approval. "Well, that's about sixteen or so bucks there. Anything else you want? Or need?"

"Uh," Alex looked around. "Pens, maybe?"

"We have some in the car." Dean told her. "Anything else?"

"Erasers? The ones on the pencils don't last very long."

"Okay."

Alex grabbed a pack of white erasers for 1.50. "Okay. I think that's all."

"Okay. Let's go find Sam."

"Oh." Alex stopped. "What about a calculator?"

Dean snorted. "Those damn things are expensive. I'm sure the school will have an extra one."

"Oh. Okay."

 

 **T** hey found Sam with several packages of lighters and some cans of food. He and Dean exchanged a few words, then they headed for the checkout. As the man was scanning their items, Alex tossed in a chocolate bar. Sam didn't notice, but Dean did. He frowned, then grabbed a chocolate bar for himself. He dropped in next to hers. Alex smiled in amusement.

 

 **D** ean drove them back to the motel. Alex tossed her stuff on the bed, sitting down. Dean tossed her her chocolate bar, and she caught it, grunting her thanks.

Sam stacked the cupboards with the food he had boughten, then sat down at the table. He pulled out his laptop, letting out a barely audible sigh.

 

 **T** he day came and went. Then it was night. Sam went out sometime around eleven for a drink. Alex and Dean stayed behind. Alex went to sleep.

 

 **S** he woke up around three. The light was on, and a quick glance around the room told her Sam wasn't back yet. Dean was laying on the other bed, his mouth twitching. Whimpers fell from his lip, then he sat up, eyes flying open. He looked around wildly. Alex sat up as well, worry creasing her face. "Dean. You okay?"

Dean's gaze locked with hers, and the wild look faded. "Yeah, yeah." He fell back against his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

Alex leaned back, now wide awake. An idea sparked in her mind, and she batted it back and forth, working up the courage. She glanced over at Dean. He was still staring at the ceiling, blankets pulled tight around him. Alex began quietly.

_Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better  
Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better._

She felt Dean's gaze on her, but he said nothing. Alex's voice grew to a more audible level, keeping her eyes focused on her hands.

_Hey Jude, don't be afraid, you were made to go out and get her  
The minute you let her under your skin then you begin to make it better._

_And anytime you feel afraid, Hey Jude, refrain._  
Don't carry the world upon your shoulder.  
For well you know that it's the fool who plays it cool  
By making his world a little cooler.  
Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na

_Hey Jude, don't let me down. You have found her, now go and get her  
The minute you let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better. _

_So let it out and let it in, Hey Jude begin.  
You're waiting for someone to preform with._

Her voice was growing more confident, and she glanced over at Dean, a small, lopsided smile across her lips.

 _Well don't you know that it's just you?_  
Hey Jude, you'll do.  
The movement you need is on your shoulder.  
Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na.

She slowly trailed off, breaking her gaze away from Dean's. For several seconds he said nothing. Then he let out a breath. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Yeah, no problem. Nightmare, huh?"

"Yeah." Dean closed his eyes briefly. "Yeah."

Alex closed her eyes and fell asleep.

 

 **S** he slept well that night, her dreams zombie-free. Then, someone was shaking her awake. She tiredly kicked at whatever it was. There was a pained grunt, telling her she had caught whoever it was in the stomach. "Get up," Dean grumbled, literally lifting her out of bed. Then he dropped her again.

Alex sat up. "What?"

"Time for school. Get ready."

Alex looked at the clock. 7:15. She yawned. "Whatever." She pulled herself out of bed and got dressed, taking a quick shower beforehand. She pulled on dark jeans, a black shirt, and a long sleeve light-blue-and-white plaid shirt. Then she reentered the room. Dean was dressed as well, and so was Sam. "Sam," she yawned. "Is your bag empty?"

"Yeah, should be. Just check again, okay?"

"Hm-hmm." Alex did just that. He was correct; it was empty. She tossed her two notebooks and other school supplies inside. Then she grabbed her necklace and slipped it over her head. "So. Breakfast?"

"On the counter."

Alex walked over and frowned. "That's last night's ravioli."

"Yep."

Alex bit back a retort, but her stomach was growling. So she ate it. "May as well throw in a beer with that," she muttered.

Sam snorted in slight amusement. "Oh, and Alex." He cleared his throat. "I signed you up for the ACT. This case is probably gonna last for a month, and you -- well, Alex Landau -- needs to take it, so . . ."

Alex frowned slightly, then shrugged. "Okay. When is it?"

"Couple weekends. Just at the college a few miles out."

"Uh, okay. Thanks." Alex turned back to her breakfast. "Didn't think we were sticking around that long."

 

 **W** hen Alex finished, she glanced at the clock. 7:39. Dean tossed her Sam's backpack. She caught it, then grabbed one of Dean's brown jackets off of the floor. It was one of the few that fit her decently well. Then they headed out the doors.

 

 **T** hey pulled into the Truman High parking lot five minutes later. Dean parked the Impala and looked up at the school, eyes distant. Alex lightly bumped him with her shoulder. "You okay?"

Dean scoffed. "Of course." He turned to Alex. "Uh, about last night."

"Yeah." Alex lowered her gaze to her hands.

"My, my mom used to sing that to me every night."

"I know. I, I . . . sorry."

"It's fine. It, uh, it kind of helped." There was several seconds of silence, and Alex got out of the car. Dean looked over at her, a smile on his face. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Alex smiled back nervously. "Yeah, whatever."

Dean noticed. "You'll be fine. Just--"

"--find the office." Alex nodded. "Yeah, I heard you the first ten times. You picking me up?"

"Yeah. Me or Sammy. Probably me."

"Okay." Alex slung her backpack over her shoulder and stepped towards the school. She reached the steps, she glanced back at Dean. He waved. Alex waved back, and watched him get into the car and drive off. Then she hurried up the steps and into the building.

She slowly wandered down the quickly filling halls. She was quick to find the school office, and entered.

"Can I help you?"

Alex looked over at a woman sitting behind a desk and blinked. "Yeah. Hey. I'm Alex Landau? Today's my first day."

"Ah, yes. We've been waiting for you. Welcome to Truman High School."

"Thanks."

The woman stood up and handed Alex a folder. "This is your schedule," she explained, opening the folder. "The room numbers are on their also."

Alex looked down at the paper. It looked like the sheet she had filled out yesterday.

"At one o'clock tomorrow," the woman said, "instead of going to math, you can come back here. We're going to give you a placement test so we can see what math class would be the best for you to jump into. I know it's an awkward time for you to jump into a new school curriculum, being it in the middle of the semester, but we'll try to help you fit in the best we can."

"Okay. Awesome."

"And if you're feeling behind in any of your classes, just let us our one of the teachers know. We'll be glad to explain."

"Thanks." The bell rang, and Alex jumped slightly.

"Your locker number is C336, and the combination is on the back of your schedule." The woman looked at her watch. "I'll show you to your first class. You should be able to find your other classes by yourself, but we understand if you're late the first couple days. We won't count those tardies against you. Before gym, come to the office. We'll get your gym clothes and the lock for your locker."

"Ah. Thanks." Alex adjusted her backpack on her shoulder. She followed the woman out into the empty halls. The walls were lined with red lockers, and Alex watched them as they walked by.

"What's your first class?"

"Uh, American Lit, room 325."

"Okay. That would be upstairs. The one hundred rooms are in the lower left wing. Two hundreds are in the right wing. Three hundreds are in the upper left wing, and the four hundred are on the other side of the gym."

"Oh. So there's four hundred classrooms?" Alex was impressed.

"No. There are about eighty or so classrooms. There's 100 through 130 or so, 200 through 230 or so, and on and on."

"Ah." They walked up a flight of stairs, and the woman opened the door to 325. They stepped inside. "Mr. Wyatt?"

A man looked over at them. "Yes?"

"This is Alex."

"Ah. Hello, Alex. I'm Mr. Wyatt." He held out his hand, and Alex shook it, studying him. He was somewhat tall, with neat brown hair and brown eyes.

"Hey."

"Alex is our new student."

"Ah, yes. Find any seat. Today we were just discussing last night's reading of _The Scarlet Letter._ "

"Oh. That's Nathaniel Hawthorne, right? With, uh, Dimmesdale and Hester Prynne." Alex walked over to an empty desk, dropping her backpack on the floor.

"Yes." Mr. Wyatt seemed impressed. "You've read it?"

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, mostly."

"Hm. Did you like it?"

"It was okay. Not my favorite, but it wasn't bad."

"Ah. Very nice."

Alex looked around at the class. "Mm."

"Do you have a copy of the book?"

"No. Sorry."

"That's fine. I have more copies." Mr. Wyatt walked over to the far cabinet and rifled through, pulling out a large book. "Here you go."

Alex took it. "Thank you." She reached into the backpack and pulled out a notebook.

Mr. Wyatt walked back to the front of the room. He leaned against the desk. "Okay. Henry. You were telling us what happened last chapter."

 

 **A** lex partially listened for the next hour or so. Then, Mr. Wyatt told the class to start reading the next three chapters. He walked over to Alex. "Here." He handed her several pieces of paper. "This is the syllabus and the daily reading for this book." He looked down at her notebook. "Do you have a binder?"

Alex shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "I, uh, I only got twenty dollars for school supplies," she admitted. "Besides, we're, uh, I'm not staying very long. A month, at the most."

"Hm. Well, okay. I've had a few students in my career in the same situation. It's tough, always moving around." Mr. Wyatt seemed actually sympathetic. "If you ever want to talk, I'm always here."

"Okay, yeah. Thanks." Alex gently brushed him off.

"Hm. Anyways, hopefully you'll be here long enough to finish the book. There's nothing worse than being unable to finish a book you started."

Alex had to agree.

"You'll be exempt from any quizzes until you catch up. Which I expect you to do. But I understand that you'll have a lot of catching up to do in your other classes as well."

"Yeah. But I'll do what I can."

"That's all I ask." Mr. Wyatt looked at the clock. "You have until 9:30 to start reading. If you have any questions, my email is on the syllabus."

"Thank you." Alex watched him walk away before opening her book. She started to read.

 

 **T** he sound of a bell made her look up. "And you're dismissed." Mr. Wyatt barely looked up. Alex stuck her book and notebook back into her backpack and stood up. She slung it over her shoulder and joined the masses as they filed out of the room. The halls were packed, and she slunk through the crowds. She stepped into a less busy corridor and pulled out her schedule. _Latin I. 203._ That would be downstairs in the other wing. She started off again.

The bell rang as she was walking down the hall. She reached room 203 a few seconds later and stepped in. A young man was talking. He stopped, looking at her.

"Hey. Alex. I'm new."

"Hm. Oh, yeah. I was told you were coming." He motioned to an empty table. "Sit."

"Kay." Alex did as he said. She looked around. This class was very small; only ten or so students.

"Salve," he began. "Exspectata retro."

 _Hello. Welcome back_. His words easily translated in Alex's mind. This class would be easy.

"As you can see, we have a _nova discipula,_ a new student. Alex. Alex, have you ever taken Latin before?"

"No," Alex answered. It was an honest answer; she'd never taken a Latin class. But she knew Latin pretty well from Bobby.

"Okay. Well, we'll start with a quiz. Alex, you don't have to take it."

"It's fine," Alex insisted. "I know a bit of Latin. We'll see how well I do."

 

 **I** t turned out she did better than most of the students. She shrugged, slumping embarrassedly down in her seat. "I spent four months with my uncle," she explained quietly. "He works with dead languages. I guess I picked up a bit."

 

 **A** fter Latin was Mythology in 108. She threw her Latin book in her bag and hurried down the halls. This was one of the classes she was actually excited for. She reached the class with seconds to spare, and introduced herself to the teacher, Mr. Ellington. He was a large man, towering above her. She took a seat in the back.

"Okay, class," Mr. Ellington began. "We have a new student, Alex. Alex. How much do you know about mythology?"

"What kind? Roman, Greek, Chinese, Norse, Native American, Indian, Japanese? I suppose I know a bit about all of it."

"Hm. Hopefully you should be able to jump right in."

"That's my plan."

"Okay. Well, today we will be continuing our reading of Greek mythology. And don't forget. Next week we start our reports on the Greek and Roman gods and goddesses."

Alex nodded. Sounded easy. She'd just use Sam.

Mr. Ellington gave her a large textbook. As he walked back to the front of the class, she flipped through the pages. It had three large sections on Greek, Roman, and Norse mythology, as well as another section on other various countries and their mythology. She nodded appreciatively. This could be fun.

 

 **T** hey took the whole class reading the story about how Prometheus had stolen fire from the gods and how he ran. It was interesting, although Bobby had had her read it a long time ago. There was a questionnaire worksheet afterwards, and everyone had to work in groups. A young girl turned around to face Alex. "You want to be my partner?" she asked quietly.

Alex studied her. Probably a sophomore. Brown hair, blue eyes, a thick black and red sweatshirt. She nodded. "Sure."

 

 **S** he let the girl, whose name was Amber, take first stab at most of the questions, politely correcting her when she was wrong, and explaining why the right answer was right. By the end of the worksheet, a nearby group of two had joined with them.

Amber turned in the papers, and Alex leaned back, looking at the clock. 10:50. She sighed.

 

 **M** ythology class was done too soon, and then Alex was off to her study hall. She sat in the back of the class near the window, and pulled out _The Scarlet Letter_. She read a chapter and a half then put the book away, bored. Her Latin assignment she had finished in class, and she put her head down on her desk. Her mind drifted back to the mythology project next week. Sounded easy, sounded fun. She pulled out her schedule. She smiled. Lunch was next.

 

 **L** unch was okay. She sat down at an empty spot next to some people she didn't know. It turns out they weren't to bad. World History was boring. 

The minute school was over, Alex hurried down the stairs, looking for the familiar Chevy Impala. There it was, coming down the street. She waited for it to pull to a stop, and got in the front seat.

Dean was there. "Well, how was your first day?"

"Eh." Alex dropped her backpack between her legs, slumping against the seat. "Long. Mythology class was cool. Latin was easy. History was boring and long. Lit. was long. We're reading _The Scarlet Letter_. I killed in gym class. We played basketball."

Dean looked over at her, turning down a road. "Neat. Find anything about the case?"

"Nope. Today's been a bit hectic. There's this chick called Ashley. She's a bitch."

Dean glanced back over at her. "A hot bitch?"

Alex snorted. "Mind out of the gutter, Dean. She ain't legal for another year or so."

"Hm." Dean cranked up the music. Alex began drumming along to _Eye of the Tiger._

 

 **B** ack at the motel, Alex collapsed on the bed. "How was school?" Sam asked.

"Hell." Alex flipped on the tv. "How about a drink, eh, Dean?"

In response, he tossed her a Coke.

"Not what I meant," Alex shot back lightly. However, she cracked it open and took a sip.

 

The next day asn't much better. But she did have gym. Before class, she went to the office, and they gave her a small white t-shirt that said 'Truman High', and a pair of red shorts. Then they sent her off to gym with a note. She changed, shoved her stuff in her locker, and stepped out into the gym.

A woman was there, holding a basketball. She looked up. "You must be Alex."

"Yep." Alex handed her the note, looking down at the red shorts. She had picked a larger pair that hung down to her knees. "That's me."

"You know how to play basketball?"

"You betcha," Alex said with her best Minnesotan accent.

"Good. You're on that team." She pointed to the left group of kids. Alex walked over there.

A tall, blonde, sexy girl looked down at her. "You better not mess this up, bitch," she said quietly. A

lex snorted, immediately disliking her. "Well, aren't you a bundle of laughs." A couple other kids giggled at her remark, but were silenced by the girl. Alex blinked. "Name's Alex. You?"

"Ashely."

"Hm. Wonderful. Nice to meet you."

"Whatever."

The game started. Alex, who had played on the varsity team back at her old school in her old universe, was naturally somewhat good. She tried extra hard just to show up Ashley. People were impressed, if she had to say herself. Since gym was an hour and a half, they actually had time for a full game. The other team won 47-44. Alex had scored almost half the points. Because of that game, she made quite a few friends, and was apparently now classified as one of those 'sports-y' people.

After gym, she changed, grabbed her backpack, and started for the door.A hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned to see Ashley and her little gang. "What?"

"You think you're so great," Ashley sneered.

"Well, I kind of killed back there," Alex admitted smugly. "Can I go?"

"Well, you know what? You're not that great."

"Those are fighting words," Alex warned. She shrugged Ashley's shoulder off. "Now, good day." She hurried off to lunch.

 

 **T** wo weeks passed. Now it was Friday. Sam and Dean had found nothing. They both agreed to give it another ten days. If there was nothing, they'd leave. Alex had mythology, then a double period of biology, followed by a double period of gym and lunch. Afterwards was world history, then math -- she was placed in trigonometry, -- and study hall. After school, while she was talking with her friend Caleb, another boy, Derek, walked up to them. "Hey, Cale. Party at my house, don't forget. There'll be chicks there. Hot ones."

Caleb grinned. "Hells yeah. Wouldn't miss it for the world." He looked over at Alex. "Can Alex come?"

Derek followed his gaze. "Uh, yeah. The more the merrier. Haven't see you around."

"I'm new." Alex shifted under the boys gaze. "I'm Alex, by the way."

"Derek." He walked away.

"I'll pick you up, if you want," Caleb suggested.

"I might have a car," Alex said. Even as the words left her mouth, she knew Dean wouldn't let her. "But, I'll uh, I'll text you."

"Yeah, okay."

 

 **D** ean was waiting in the parking lot when Alex stepped outside. She got into the front seat, and Dean drove away.

"So," Alex began after a few minute's silence. "I was invited to a party tonight."

"Hm." Dean looked over at her. "Is there going to be guys there?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I don't know . . ."

"Dean, the only people in my life are guys. I think I can take care of myself --"

"Yeah, but those are high school guys. They're horndogs."

Alex pouted as they pulled into the motel parking lot. "Dean . . ."

Dean said nothing, but turned off the car and got out.

Alex followed him into the motel. "I mean, I don't really want to go, but . . ."

"What's up with her?" Sam looked up from his laptop.

"She was invited to a party. A high school party. With guys and booze."

Sam snorted in amusement, and Alex crossed her arms. "Okay. _First_ of all, I drink anyways. _Second_ , it's just high school guys. I _kill_ people stronger than that. I can fend off some half-drunk dude. But I don't really want to go, okay? I was just telling you."

Dean started to respond, but Sam cut him off. "I think she should go," he said, standing up to approach them.

"What?"

"Sam!" Both Alex and Dean looked over at him, surprised.

"Dean, this was basically your whole high school life. Hell, this is still your life. She'll be fine if she goes to one party. You're always saying you want her to do more normal things. Besides, this could help with the case. The more she knows about these people, the better."

Dean crossed his arms. "Fine. But you're coming back before midnight."

"A curfew? Really?" Alex mimicked him by crossing her arms. "You trust me that much? I'm flattered. But do I really have to go?"

"Yes." Sam shook his head in amusement. "Alex, stay out as late as you want."

"Hm. Okay, Sammy." She glanced up at Dean. "I suppose it would be too much to ask for the car."

"You bet your ass it is." Dean glared at Sam, still cross.

"Okay. I'll just text Caleb. He'll pick me up."

"Woah woah woah. You're going to the party with a _boy_?"

"Yes. Good job, Dean. Caleb _is/ _a boy." Alex pulled out her phone and plopped down on the bed.__

 _Can u pick me up? Don't have a car._  
_Yeah. Can do. Where r u living?_  
_Motel on Highland. Room 14._  
_K. Will be there around 8. Be ready._  
_k. See ya._

__Alex snapped close her phone. Sam had returned to his laptop, and Dean was drinking a beer. "Caleb will pick me up around eight."_ _

__Dean just grunted in acknowledgement._ _

__Alex let out a frustrated noise. "What do you want, Dean? Should I bring my gun? Would that make you feel better?"_ _

__"Of course not. Just . . ." Dean trailed off._ _

__

__**T** en o'clock came quickly. Alex changed into her nice clothes, which included nice jeans, a white v-neck shirt, and a red plaid. She pulled on her converse, one grey and one maroon. Then she combed her hair back and stepped out of the bathroom. Sam ran an approving eye over her, but Dean just frowned. _ _

__"What's the matter, Dean-o?" Alex pouted playfully. "Jealous?" Dean's frown deepened, and Alex sighed. "I _promise_ I won't hook up with anyone, okay? Promise." She shot him a small smile. _ _

__"Whatever. And it's not 'Dean' around others. It's Jim." There was a knock at the door, and Dean sprung towards it. He pulled it open, crossing his arms. "Caleb?"_ _

__"Yes sir."_ _

__Alex grabbed her phone and shoved it in her pocket before hurrying over to the door. " _Jimmy_ ," she chastised. "I'll be fine." She grabbed her jacket off of the counter before pushing past him. "I'll be fine," she promised, pulling it on._ _

__"You be careful," Dean warned. "If anyone touches you, I will kill them. I will rip their lungs out."_ _

__Caleb stepped back uncertainly, but Alex rolled her eyes, unfazed. "I'll make sure to tell them that. See you later." She walked towards Caleb's car, and Caleb followed._ _

__"Is, uh, is he serious?"_ _

__Alex shrugged. "Probably." She got into the front seat as Caleb started the car. They drove off._ _

__

__**F** ifteen minutes later Caleb pulled up in front of a large house. Several cars were parked on the streets, and, after the car was put into park, Alex got out. She followed Caleb into the house. _ _

__The music was loud, and the place was crowded. Alex shifted, already irritated. Whatever reason she had for coming here was quickly forgotten._ _

__"Hey!" Derek walked up to them. "Come on in!" He pulled Caleb into a bro hug, a red solo cup in one hand. "There's beer in the kitchen."_ _

__"Great!" Caleb glanced over at Alex. "You ever had beer?"_ _

__Alex pulled up her lip slightly. "Yeah. I don't like it. I'll take vodka any day."_ _

__Derek grinned. "That's my kind of girl. Vodka's in the punch. Help yourself."_ _

__Caleb followed her into the kitchen. "Your dad's cool with you drinking, huh?"_ _

___Dad?_ "Uh, yeah. It's part of the job." When Caleb asked what that meant, she didn't respond. _ _

__

__**T** he party was long. Alex leaned against the wall, bored as hell. She sniffed at the punch, the sharp odor still unappealing. It smelled like rubbing alcohol, so she knew it was the cheap stuff. She sighed. _ _

__"How many glasses of that have you had?" Jordan, a senior, walked up to her, beer bottle in hand._ _

__Alex shrugged. "Three, maybe four." She could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You drunk?"_ _

__"Hells yeah!" Jordan stepped closer to her, and Alex held out a hand to stop him. "Come on," he slurred. "You're kinda cute."_ _

__"Go away," Alex suggested._ _

__"Why?" Jordan stepped closer, but Alex held her ground._ _

__"Go away," Alex repeated, this time more firmly. She set her glass down -- she had had plenty anyways -- and crossed her arms._ _

__"Come on." Jordan winked at her. "Derek said the bedrooms were open upstairs. Don't tell me you don't want a piece of this." He stepped back, motioning to his person._ _

__"No thank you," Alex politely declined. She stalked past Jordan to find Caleb._ _

__

__**O** n Monday, Dean dropped both her and Sam off. Sam was starting his job as the janitor, and Dean had the gym teacher interview. _ _

__

__**L** unch came after gym, and she sat with her new friends. Caleb, one of the most popular guys, sat across from her. He was in several of her classes, and was always a source for conversation. Alex watched as Sam walked by, his tall stature making it near impossible to miss him. Suddenly, Ashley plopped down next to her. "Move over, slut." She tried to push Alex aside. _ _

__Alex refused to budge. "Sorry. Occupied."_ _

__"Leave her alone, Ash." Caleb glared at the girl._ _

__"Shut up, Caleb." Ashely tossed her hair over her back. "Why are you defending her?"_ _

__"Because you're a bitch and she's not."_ _

__Alex snickered._ _

__Ashely glared at the both of them, then picked up her lunch and stalked off._ _

__"Thanks." Alex tossed him her cookie._ _

__Caleb bit into it, grinning. "No probs. Like I said. She's a bitch."_ _

__

__**A** fter lunch was World History. Alex barely listened to Mrs. Stevens as she droned on about the war of 1812. Then was math; boring as hell. However, both Caleb and Derek were there. They sat in the back, adding their side comments to make things more amusing. Alex smiled. Study Hall, then home. Then repeat the next day._ _

__That weekend, she took the ACT. It seemed simple, so she was pretty sure she was doing something wrong._ _

__

__**I** t was Tuesday. Dean had gotten the job as the gym teacher and started that morning. Alex didn't have gym today, and sighed at the thought of not being able to see him teach. But tomorrow? That would be fun._ _

__The bell rang a few seconds before she stepped into Health Education. Every time she stepped through that door, she cursed Alex Landau for not taking this fucking class. But the teacher was away, so little was being accomplished._ _

__"You're late."_ _

__Alex looked up at the voice. "Oh hell no."_ _

__"Watch your language." Dean was leaning against the desk, watching her. "And take a seat."_ _

__Alex did so, disgruntled to find the only one open on the far right of the class in the front row. She slid into the chair, dropping her bag on the ground with a huff._ _

__"Now," Dean began. "My name is Mr. Roth. I'm the new sub for Mrs. Boudreaux."_ _

__Alex raised her hands. "I thought you were only teaching gym," she hissed._ _

__Dean looked over at her, and blinked. "Change of plans." He turned back to the class. "Any other stupid questions?"_ _

__Alex glared out the window angrily._ _

__

__**O** f course they were in the part of the book about sex. Where else would they be when Dean showed up? "Alright." Dean grabbed the open textbook off of the desk, holding it in one hand. "Sex. Anyone here still a virgin?" _ _

__Everyone just looked around. Alex blushed, watching a squirrel in the tree._ _

__"No one? I'm pretty sure at least one of you is lying."_ _

__Alex knew Dean was looking at her. She gave no response._ _

__"Anyways. I'm here to make sure you all know how to stay safe and stay . . . uh, not with a kid." Dean cleared his throat. "Now let me tell you. I've had quite a bit of experience."_ _

__Alex groaned. There was an hour and a half of this._ _

__Dean was still talking. "Gymnast twins." He whistled. "That was sexy."_ _

__A low buzz passed through the classroom. Alex blushed even more, letting out a huff._ _

__"Problem, Alex?"_ _

__Alex looked up. "Not at all. Just ignoring you. The usual."_ _

__Dean smiled, but quickly hid it. "Well, they'll be a quiz later," he said breezily._ _

__Alex went back to watching the window._ _

__

__**A** n hour and a half later, the bell rang, and the students filed out. Alex grabbed her backpack and jumped up, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Alex." _ _

__Alex stopped, waiting as the room emptied. "Can't this wait for the car?" she asked. She thought Dean was going to chew her out for her behavior in his class._ _

__She was wrong. Dean sat back on his desk. "Can you believe this?" he laughed. "They wanted me to teach sex ed." He chuckled again. "They asked me if I had experience. I said yeah."_ _

__Alex let out an awkward laugh, blushing. "Great. But I'm pretty sure they didn't just want to telling your own sexual experiences."_ _

__"Whatever. Get your things, we're going home."_ _

__Alex did as he asked._ _

__

__**S** he stepped into the gymnasium that Wednesday, dressed her in her white shirt and her large red shorts. She joined the other teens who were milling around. That's when Dean stepped out. Alex almost died laughing. _ _

__"Everyone in a line," Dean barked. They did as he said. Alex bit her lip, laughter bubbling in her chest. "Is there a problem . . ?"_ _

__"Alex."_ _

__"Is there a problem, Alex?" Dean repeated._ _

__"No sir. But, uh, _Jimmy_ , you look ridiculous." She studied Dean. He wore a white shirt and tight red shorts that ended an inch or two above his knee. He had high white socks with three red stripes, new white tennis shoes, and a red headband. A whistle hung around his neck. _ _

__Dean looked down at his outfit, then back up at Alex. "That's Coach Roth to you."_ _

__"Right. Of course. But you still look --"_ _

__"Anyways." Dean cut her off with a glare. He walked down the line of kids. "Today, you will have honor of playing one of the greatest games ever invented. A game of skill, ability and cunning." He picked up a red dodgeball that way laying on the floor, studying it. "A game with one, simple rule. Dodge." He suddenly threw the ball into the kid at the end; an underclassman._ _

__The boy, Brian, let out a pained noise, taking several steps back. "Ugh."_ _

__Alex couldn't help it. This whole thing was ridiculous, from Dean's outfit to his speech. She laughed._ _

__"Is something funny?" Dean turned back to her._ _

__"No," Alex forced out, taking deep breaths. "Sorry, sir."_ _

__"Uh, Substitute Coach Roth," another young boy called Colby began._ _

__"Yes?"_ _

__"Mrs. Boudreaux never let us play dodgeball."_ _

__"Well, Mrs. B is in Massachusetts getting married, so we're playing."_ _

__"But she say it's dangerous."_ _

__Dean blew his whistle. "Take a lap."_ _

__"But --"_ _

__Dean glanced over towards the door. He threw the bag of balls towards them. "Go nuts."_ _

__Alex looked behind her to see Sam. The kids scrambled for the balls, and Dean walked over to his brother. Alex followed._ _

__Sam looked amused. "Having fun?"_ _

__"The whistle makes me their god."_ _

__"Right. Nice shorts."_ _

__"That's what I told him," Alex added._ _

__Dean glanced at her. "I'm your teacher. Respect."_ _

__Alex rolled her eyes._ _

__Dean turned back to Sam. "Find anything?"_ _

__"I've been over the whole school twice. No sign of sulfur."_ _

__Dean let out a frustrated breath. "No sulfur, no demon. No demon, no case."_ _

__Alex joined in his frustration. "No case? You guys made me go to high school."_ _

__"Yeah. Maybe I was wrong."_ _

__"Well, it happens to the best of us. I say we hit the road, huh? But not until lunch. It's sloppy joe day."_ _

__Alex nodded in agreement. "Gotta stay for that."_ _

__"Ow!" Colby ran past them, clutching his nose._ _

__"Good hustle, Colby!" Dean called after him. "Walk it off. And you," he said to Alex. "Back to the game."_ _

__Alex did as he said. Caleb threw a ball at Brian. Then he turned, snagging a ball out of the air. "Hey." He bounced the ball to Alex. "Truce?"_ _

__Alex nodded. "Watch this." Taking the ball, she threw it across the gym. And hit Dean square in the back. He turned, and his eyes locked with Alex. She shrugged innocently. Several kids snickered. Caleb gave her a high-five._ _

__Dean squared his jaw. "You. After class."_ _

__"Yes sir." Alex gave him a mock salute. Even Sam smiled in amusement. He said something, and Dean rolled his eyes._ _

__

__**A** fter that, the dodgeball game went without a hitch. Alex didn't win any of them, but it was still fun. Even Dean joined in at one point. _ _

__

__**T** hen there was lunch. Dean was sitting at the teacher's table, devouring his food. He hadn't kept her after class; after all, it _was_ sloppy joe time. Alex sat down next to Caleb, picking up the sloppy joe. She licked her lips, hungry. Spending several months with Dean had left her with some of his tastes; including his love for certain foods. _ _

__"Move, slut."_ _

__Alex rolled her eyes. That had become Ashley's typical greeting to her. She glanced up at her. She was wearing her cheerleader costume. "Slut?" she asked. "Look in the mirror lately?"_ _

__Caleb snickered, and some others followed suit._ _

__"Shut up, you bitch." Ashley slapped her hard in the back of the head. The whole lunchroom fell silent._ _

__Alex stood up, slowly turning around. "Excuse me?"_ _

__"You heard me. You think you're so great, walking in here, thinking you own the place. But you don't. You're nothing more than a whining slut."_ _

__The word 'slut' echoed around the table._ _

__Ashely continued. "And you know what, I bet you've been sleeping with Coach Roth, haven't you. I've seen the way you two talk. It's obvious."_ _

__Alex scratched her forehead frustratedly. "Why do people always . . ." she muttered. She shook her head, returned her gaze to Ashely. "Well, in case you've been wondering, Jimmy is my legal guardian. And no, I've never slept with him. Now, why don't you walk away and leave me alone."_ _

__Ashley dropped her tray. Then she punched Alex in the face._ _

__Alex stumbled, and anger flashed in her eyes. "Do that one more time, and I will hit you," she warned._ _

__Ashley punched her again. Alex dodged, then threw a punch into her gut. As Ashley doubled over, Alex caught her with an upper cut to the jaw. Then hands gripped at her arm, pulling her back. "My office, now," Dean growled. He roughly shoved her towards the door._ _

__"She started it," Alex insisted. She watched as another teacher led Ashley away. Then she was out in the hall. "Dean! She started it. You saw her!"_ _

__"I know. Come on." Dean led her into his office. He had changed into his normal clothes. "What do you think you were doing?"_ _

__"What do you mean?" Alex snapped. "It was self defense! She's been doing that all week, Dean."_ _

__"Don't call me Dean," Dean whispered fiercely. "It's Coach Roth. And that doesn't give you an excuse to hit her!"_ _

__"Are you serious?"_ _

__"Yes I'm serious! You were suppose to be working a case, Alex. Not picking fights with cheerleaders."_ _

__"I told you! I'm not the one looking for a fight."_ _

__Dean let out a frustrated noise, sitting down on his desk. "Just . . . it doesn't matter, okay? Lunch is over. Let's just get out of here."_ _

__Then Sam burst through the door. "There you are."_ _

__"Hey. Sammy. Ready to go?"_ _

__"Nope. Turns out there's something to this case after all." He glanced at Alex. "Next period has been replaced by a nonviolence assembly. Get going."_ _

__Alex snorted. "Are you kidding? I'm not going."_ _

__"You just punched a cheerleader," Dean snapped._ _

__"She punched me first."_ _

__Sam raised an eyebrow. "You punched a cheerleader?"_ _

__"She called me a whining slut. Then she hit me!"_ _

__"Oh. Anyways. I was there when the kid shoved the guy's fist into the blender."_ _

__"What?" Dean stood up, interested._ _

__"Yeah. But there was ectoplasm coming out of his ear."_ _

__Sam was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Mr. Roth," a young woman stuck her head in the door. "Principal Jonson has called a school wide assembly."_ _

__"Oh." Dean glanced at his brother. "I'll be right there."_ _

__The woman nodded and left._ _

__"Uh, I should go," Dean said. "We'll slip out after a few minutes. We'll meet you in the B hallway, okay?"_ _

__"Yeah. I'll go check out the classroom."_ _

__"Okay." Dean led Alex out of his office._ _

__They walked down to the gym, where the bleachers had been pulled out. Alex leaned against the wall next to the door. Dean and Sam followed suit. The principal was in the middle of the gym. Alex half listened, waiting for Dean's signal to leave._ _

__Finally, he leaned over to her. "Give me five minute head start. I'm going to go see if there were any death's on campus. I'll meet up with you."_ _

__Alex nodded. She crossed her arms, listening to the Principal tell them that shoving a guy's fist into a blender was not the way do deal with their anger. She gave up and left._ _

__She hurried down the halls, keeping her footsteps as silent as possible. The hallways were empty, and she made good time. She reached the B hallway within minutes. Sam was there, waiting. "Where's Dean?"_ _

__"Dunno. Said he was going to check something." Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Alex turned. "Ah. Speak of the devil."_ _

__Dean walked up next to them. "Come on." He lead them down the hall._ _

__"How's the nonviolence assembly going?" Sam asked._ _

__Alex opened her mouth, but Dean answered first. "Apparently shoving a kid's arm into a Cuisinart is not 'a healthy display of anger.' So this kid had ectoplasm leaking out his ear?"_ _

__"Which only comes from a seriously pissed-off spirit. It's got to be --"_ _

__"Ghost possession." Alex finished. "I was just reading about this when you picked me up at Bobby's."_ _

__"Yeah." Sam nodded in agreement._ _

__"But that's pretty rare," Dean countered._ _

__"Yeah, but it happens. I mean, they get angry enough, then can take control of a person's body."_ _

__"Alright, so what, we got a ghost in the building?"_ _

__"Yeah, but where?" Sam looked as confused as Dean. "I mean, there's no EMF."_ _

__"There doesn't have to be," Alex cut in, glad to know something on the topic. "I mean, I was just reading about this. The EMF is only where the ghost is tied to. But some possessing ghosts can literally ride a person from where they're tied to to basically . . . wherever. When they're expelled, they're just pulled back to that place."_ _

__Sam studied her. "Yeah. She's right."_ _

__Dean frowned. "But I already got a list of the people who died on campus. Oh, and FYI," he added with a grin, "three of the cheerleaders are legal. Guess which ones --"_ _

__"Dude. No." Alex cut him off._ _

__Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother, shaking his head in amusement and annoyance. He shifted the subject back to the ghost at hand. "So, did anyone actually die here?"_ _

__"Yeah. One person. A suicide back in '98." Dean reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. He smoothed it out on a jean-clad thigh. "Barry Cook." He looked up at his brother. "What?"_ _

__Sam's face was one of shock and despair. "I knew him. How did he die?"_ _

__"He slit his wrists in the first floor girls' bathroom."_ _

__"That's where--"_ _

__"Right where the chick got swirlied, exactly. So what? Maybe this ghost's possessing nerds?"_ _

__"And using them to go after bullies." Sam nodded in understanding._ _

__"So, does that sound like Barry's M.O.?"_ _

__"Barry had a hard time." Sam's eyes grew distant._ _

__Alex and Dean exchanged glances. "But there's no EMF," Alex prompted. "So, he can't be haunting the school."_ _

__"Listen. This is kind of the best shot we got, okay?" Dean's eyes flickered over his brother before returning to Alex. "And the sooner we stop this, the better."_ _

__"Unless we waste time on this," Alex insisted. Dean shot her a warning glance, and she fell into silence._ _

__"Listen. After . . . this, we'll go see where he's buried, okay? Then we'll take care of this for good." He turned to Alex. "You, uh, want to go back to that assembly?"_ _

__"Hell no."_ _

__"Okay." Dean glanced at the clock on the wall. "We got what, an hour, hour and a half?" He sighed. "Let's quit school for the day, okay? Come on, Sam."_ _

__They left and went back to the motel._ _

__

__Alex sat at the desk, her mythology textbook to her left, Sam's computer to her right. "Hey, Sam."_ _

__"What?"_ _

__"So, I got to do this report on, uh, Zeus. Think you can help?"_ _

__"You know once we burn his bones we're hitting the road." However, Sam got up and walked over to her. "Let me see."_ _

__Alex handed him the rubric. "Here."_ _

__Sam snorted. "Please. This is nothing. Move over."_ _

__Alex gladly did._ _

__

__**S** am finished her project in five minutes. "Thanks Sammy." Alex smiled innocently up at him. _ _

__Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever."_ _

__The door opened, and Dean walked in. "Yo, Sammy. Wanna head down to the coroner's with me? See if we can get Cook's autopsy report?"_ _

__"Sure." Sam stood up. "Let me go get dressed."_ _

__"Yeah, okay." Dean sat down on the bed as Sam disappeared into the bathroom. Dean turned to Alex. "Hey. Whatcha doing?"_ _

__"Uh, homework." Alex glanced over at the older hunter. "Mythology report on Zeus."_ _

__"Ah. The lightning thief."_ _

__"No. That was Percy Jackson."_ _

__Dean raised an eyebrow. "I thought he stole lightning from some guy."_ _

__"No. The Lightning Thief is a book. It does include Zeus and Greek gods, though."_ _

__"Prometheus stole fire from Zeus and gave it to man," Sam suggested, stepping out of the bathroom. He grabbed his tie out of his drawer, quickly tying it. "Maybe that's what you're thinking of."_ _

__"Hm." Dean gave a noncommittal grunt. He got up, grabbed his clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom._ _

__Alex watched him go. "Was he joking?"_ _

__Sam shrugged. "Wouldn't surprise me if he wasn't."_ _

__Alex laughed._ _

__

__**T** hat night, they drove out to the Greenville Cemetery, armed with shovels, salt, kerosene, and matches. Sam handed her a flashlight and a shovel, then followed after Dean. Alex did the same, shining her flashlight over the faded headstones. She headed off to the left, while Sam and Dean went right. _ _

__There. Barry Cook. "Guys." Alex motioned them over. She sunk her shovel into the dirt as the Winchesters hurried over._ _

__"Good work," was all Dean said. He started digging alongside her._ _

__

__**T** here was only room for two people to dig at once, so the three of them switched off every couple minutes. Alex was digging with Sam when her shovel hit metal. She and Sam exchanged glances, and Sam quickly scraped away the rest of the dirt and hooked his fingers under the lid. Alex stepped out of the way as he ripped the lid up and away. _ _

__Alex grimaced. "Nasty." The body wasn't fully decompose; tendons still clung to the bones, and there was still flesh in several parts._ _

__Dean just grunted. He tossed salt down to Sam, and screwed the cap off of the gas can._ _

__

__**T** hey stood there as the bones burned. The night air was chilly, and Alex picked her jacket up off of the ground, pulling it back on. She pulled her hands up into her warm sleeves. Dean noticed, and handed her the salt and gasoline. "Put that back in the trunk," he told her, tossing her the keys._ _

__"Kay." Alex broke into a slow jog. She reached the car in five minutes and quickly put everything away. Then she crawled into the backseat. She yawned, closing her eyes._ _

__A few minutes later there was a knock on the window. Alex looked up, then opened the door. "Here." She handed Dean his keys._ _

__"You were suppose to come back," Dean said mildly. "We thought a ghost got you." He circled around to the other side, getting in to the driver's seat._ _

__Alex waited until he could hear her again. "Trust me," she promised. "If a ghost had gotten me, you would have heard about it."_ _

__Sam let out a grunt of agreement. "She would have screamed her ass off," he added._ _

__Alex huffed in indignation. "I don't scream out of my ass," she protested jokingly. Sam shot her a confused look as Dean started the car and drove off._ _

__

__**"Y** ou alright?" Dean glanced over at his brother. _ _

__Sam looked out the window. "Barry was my friend," he finally admitted. "I just burned his bones."_ _

__"Well, he's at peace now, Sam. "_ _

__Sam continued as if he hadn't heard his brother. "I mean, if Dad had let us stay just a little longer, maybe I could have helped the kid, you know?"_ _

__"You read the coroner's report same as me. Barry was on every anxiety drug and antidepressant known to man. School was hell for that kid. His parents split up. He just wanted out. It was tragic, but it wasn't your fault."_ _

__Alex hummed in agreement with Dean._ _

__He continued. "And, to tell you the truth, I'm glad we got out of the town. I hated that school."_ _

__"It wasn't all bad."_ _

__"How can you say that after what happened to you?" Dean shot his brother a glance, and Sam turned to meet his gaze._ _

__"What happened to him?" Alex leaned forward._ _

__"Nothing."_ _

__"Bully." Dean turned his head to look at her._ _

__"Eyes on road," Alex told him._ _

__Dean did as she asked. "He got beaten up by some dumb-ass kid."_ _

__"It's fine, Dean." Sam sounded exasperated. "Just, forget about it, okay?"_ _

__Alex changed the subject. "So, we're done here? No more school? Cause I got your jacket in my locker."_ _

__"We'll get your things in the morning," Dean said. "Okay?"_ _

__"Okay."_ _

__

__**A** lex slept well that night, and Dean shook her awake around eight. "Ready?" _ _

__"Sure." Alex quickly got dressed. "We leaving town?"_ _

__"Nah. Might as well stay here for a day or two until we know where we're going next."_ _

__"Okay."_ _

__"Hey." Sam stood up. "Can I come too?"_ _

__"Uh, why?" Dean looked confused._ _

__"I'll explain in the car."_ _

__

__Dean didn't argue, and soon he pulled the car into the high school parking lot. "So? You care to explain?"_ _

__Sam shrugged. "I wanted to talk with Mr. Wyatt. He was my Lit teacher back when we went here."_ _

__"Yeah, he's one of my teachers," Alex nodded._ _

__You came back here so you could talk to a teacher?" Dean sounded skeptical. He had changed before they had left, and now was wearing a black t-shirt under a green jacket. Under a heavier brown jacket. In other words, the typical layers._ _

__Sam went on the defense. "He's a good guy."_ _

__"Well, whatever. Go have your Robin William's 'O captain, my captain" moment. Make it quick."_ _

__Alex followed Sam into the school. Her locker was on the way, and she stopped by, grabbing her backpack and throwing whatever she wanted to keep in it. She pulled on Dean's jacket then hurried after Sam._ _

__He was talking to a student. "--third door to the left," he was saying._ _

__"Thanks, Sam." Suddenly, the girl lunged at the hunter, a knife in her hand. She stabbed him in the chest. He fell. "You got tall, Winchester." The girl kicked Sam in the face as Alex rushed towards them, dropping her bag. The girl ignored Alex, reaching for Sam. He suddenly reached up, something in the palm his hand. He forced it into her mouth, and she screamed. Suddenly, a black form was ripped out of her back, disappearing down the hallway at a great speed as if someone were yanking it back. The girl collapsed, and Alex knelt before Sam._ _

__"Sam?" she peeled back his shirt, looking at the wound despite his protests. "You okay?" She stared at the girl. "What the hell?"_ _

__"I'm fine, I'm fine." Sam let Alex help him up. "Just, uh, let's get out of here."_ _

__Alex helped him towards the door._ _

__

__**"TT** hey drove for five or so minutes before Dean pulled the car off along the wooded road. He got out, pulled the cooler out of the trunk. Sam got out as well, sitting on a log next to the car. Dean handed him a large bottle of whiskey. "Trust me. This will help." _ _

__Sam grunted, but took it none the less._ _

__"That ghost is dead!" Dean said angrily, pacing. "I'm gonna rip it's lungs out! Well, you know what I mean . . ." He faltered, and leaned against the trunk, picking up the case folder. Alex joined him on the trunk._ _

__"It knew my name, Dean. My real name. We burned Barry's bones. What the hell?"_ _

__"Well, maybe it wasn't Barry."_ _

__"Genius." Alex tapped him on the head._ _

__Dean ignored her, moving his head away. "Maybe we missed something. We just got to go back." He flipped through the pages._ _

__"Back?" Alex frowned. "Hell no. School is, well, school is hell."_ _

__"No way." Alex was about to respond, but she realized Dean wasn't talking to her. "How did we not see this before?"_ _

__"What?"_ _

__"Check it out." Dean handed his brother the folder. "Look. Martha Dumptruck, Revenge of the Nerds, Hello Kitty -- they all rode the same bus."_ _

__"Okay. So maybe the bus is haunted."_ _

__"Yeah. Like we said before. The ghost could be riding people into the school." Alex nodded._ _

__"Great," Dean grumbled. "Ghost's getting creative. Just what we need." He reached into the cooler, pulling out a second large bottle of whiskey, flipping it around nonchalantly. He cracked it open and took a sip._ _

__They sat there in silence for a long while. The air grew chilly, and Alex wished she had brought a thicker jacket. She started shivering. Dean noticed. He glanced over at his brother. "You ready?"_ _

__"For what?" Sam took a swig of whiskey._ _

__"To check out that bus," Dean snorted. "It's the middle of the day. It's just sitting there."_ _

__"Okay."_ _

__

__**W** ithin ten minutes, Dean was leading the way into the bus in suspect. Sam pulled out the EMF and made his way down to the back of the bus, sawed-off in his hand. The EMF was buzzing, red lights lighting up. "Definitely ain't clean," Sam muttered under his breath._ _

__"Here, ghosty ghosty," Dean called, hitting the metal roof with the barrel of his gun. "Come out come out wherever you are."_ _

__Alex huffed in amusement. "Real professional."_ _

__Dean just grunted._ _

__"Man, I don't get it." Sam glanced up at them. "No one ever died on a bus, and it's not like there's a body hidden in here."_ _

__"Yeah," Dean agreed, "but a flap of skin, a hair, hell, a hangnail -- something's got to be tying the ghost to this place. We just got to find it."_ _

__Alex grunted. "Something that small? We'll never find it. I say we just burn the whole bus."_ _

__Sam chuckled slightly, and Dean paused, considering the idea. Then he shook it off. "We'll see." He walked up to the front of the bus, rifling through the compartments. "Hey."_ _

__"What?"_ _

__"Got a driving permit, issued three weeks ago."_ _

__"Just before the first attack." Sam walked over to his brother. Alex followed._ _

__"Yeah." Dean showed them the permit. The picture was of a grey-haired man, probably around fifty or sixty. "Name of the driver is Dirk McGregor Sr, 39 North Central Avenue."_ _

__"McGregor?"_ _

__"Yeah. Why?"_ _

__"I knew his son."_ _

__Dean looked up. "Did you know everyone at this school?"_ _

__Sam snorted in half-amusement, but said nothing._ _

__Dean sighed, putting the stuff back. "39 North Central Avenue. Let's go." He led them off the bus and bak to the car. They got in. "Okay. Alex, back to the motel for you. Me and Sammy are going to go talk to this McGregor guy."_ _

__"Oh. Okay." Alex hid her disappointment. "Cool." She threw her legs across the seat, leaning against the window. Dean pulled out into the street._ _

__

__**I** t was only a few minutes drive. Dean pulled along side the motel. Alex got out, watching them peel away. Her fingers traced the key in her palm, before turning and walking across the parking lot. It didn't surprise her that Dean had basically just dropped her off in the streets. _ _

__She unlocked their door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. She hadn't grabbed a thick jacket, and the day had suddenly gotten cold, she was now cold herself. Cramps had been plaguing her all day, and she had started her period that morning. She walked into the bathroom for a warm shower._ _

__

__**S** he thought she heard movement the other room. She paused, then turned off the water, unsure. She didn't think she had been in there _that_ long. However, she quickly dried off and got dressed. She slipped on her undershirt then reached for her t-shirt. "Alex." _ _

__Alex jumped, startled. She turned, and a frown creased her face. "Okay. New rule. If I'm in the bathroom, you stay out. Or at least, knock or something."_ _

__Castiel stood behind her, eyes studying hers. But all he said was, "Okay." Then he was gone._ _

__Alex pulled on her shirt and stepped out into the main room. Castiel was sitting on the bed. He was watching the tv, which was now on. Every once and a while, he would tap his thigh with his finger, and the channel would change._ _

__Alex sat down beside him, reaching for the remote. "Whatcha doing?"_ _

__"I don't know." Castiel turned his head to look at her. "What are you doing?"_ _

__"Talking to you." Castiel didn't get the joke, and Alex let it slide. "Forget it. Sam and Dean are talking to some guy. We're on a case. I had to go to school."_ _

__"I sense you didn't like that."_ _

__"Nah. People are stupid, Cas. There was this one chick who wasn't nice. Every time I saw her she called me a slut."_ _

__Castiel hesitated. "I . . . don't think you are a slut."_ _

__"Thanks." Alex sighed, studying the tv. Cramps rippled through her, and she fell back against the mattress, clutching her stomach with a groan._ _

__Castiel noticed. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly. "Are you hurt?"_ _

__"I'm fine," Alex hissed. "Just cramps. On my period."_ _

__It took Castiel a moment to understand. "Oh. I didn't realize it hurt that badly."_ _

__Alex looked up at him. "Imagine someone stabbing you in the stomach every few minutes."_ _

__Castiel reached over, knocking her hands out of the way. He ran his hand under her shirt and over her skin. The pain disappeared, and Alex breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said. "So. Castiel. Why are you here?"_ _

__"I was in the area." Castiel tapped his thigh again, and the channel changed._ _

__"Here." Alex held out the remote. "This is how us lowly humans change the channel." She demonstrated by changing the channel back to Disney. "It also controls the volume. We call it a remote."_ _

__"I know what a remote is." However, Castiel did not seem irritated. He turned his attention back to the tv, and Alex reached behind him for her journal. She couldn't reach it, so she shifted, bringing her legs up onto the bed. She grabbed it, then leaned her back against Castiel's shoulder, using it as a backrest. He initially flinched, but quickly relaxed. "Is this normally what people do?"_ _

__"Nope." Alex flipped through the pages. "Well, I suppose couples might, but we're not . . ." She trailed off, not bothering to finish her sentence. "Your arm is surprisingly comfortable."_ _

__"Oh. Thank you."Castiel looked over at her. "What is that?"_ _

__"My journal. About cases and such." Alex turned to the page about biembiens. "And creatures."_ _

__"Hm. You have beautiful handwriting."_ _

__Alex visibly blushed, but ignored it. "Thanks."_ _

__"Do you always do your 'o's like that?" Castiel pointed to her handwriting, where every 'o' had a vertical line through it._ _

__Alex shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."_ _

__

__**TAS** he awoke the next morning to find the bed next to her empty. She heard the lyrics to _Ramble On_ , and opened her eyes. Dean was over by the small kitchenette, making breakfast, singing Led Zeppelin. Alex sat up, glancing around. Her eyes returned to the eldest hunter. His hair was damp, and he wasn't wearing a shirt. He was missing something else, too. "Dean." _ _

__Dean stopped singing and looked over at her. "What?"_ _

__"You're not wearing pants."_ _

__Dean looked down. Sure enough, he was still in his boxers. He shrugged. "So?"_ _

__Alex shook her head. "Whatever. Just, remember to put them on before we leave."_ _

__Dean let out a indignant noise, but turned back to his cooking. Sam snorted in amusement._ _

__

__**April 24th, 2009** _ _

__**Sioux Falls, South Dakota** _ _

**W** ithin the day, Alex found herself back at Bobby's. She sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She pushed her way through the door.

"Alex!" Bobby's voice came from the study. "Get over here."

"Yes, oh mighty king," Alex yelled back, dropping her bag on the floor. "Why the hell do you have to be so bossy?" She walked into study and stopped. Bobby was there, but so was Sheriff Mils. "Oh. Hey." Alex flopped down on the couch. "Uh, what's going on?"

"Alex. How are you?" Jody Mils looked over at the teen.

"Uh, okay, I guess. Thanks for asking." Alex pulled herself into a sitting position. "What are you doing here?"

"I was checking up on you. To be blunt, I don't trust Bobby. And I don't trust him with you." The Sheriff glared at the older hunter, who let out an annoyed huff.

"You're worrying over nothing," Bobby grumbled. "Look. She's totally fine."

Alex grunted in agreement.

"Where were you?" Sheriff Mils turned to Alex.

Alex shrugged nonchalantly. "With friends."

"You haven't been around in a month."

"We've been busy." Alex glanced over at the fridge. "You guys want a drink? Bobby?"

"Uh, no thanks, girl."

"Okay." Alex shrugged again, pulling her legs up onto the couch.

Mils looked around. "The place is looking better. Less like a pigsty, more like a house."

Bobby visibly bristled, but Alex shot him a warning look. "Thanks," she said. "He's been making an effort to make me at home."

"Hm." The Sheriff looked over at Alex. "How old are you?"

"Uh, like eighteen?"

"Oh. I learned you haven't been going to school."

"Nope." Alex shot a quick glance at Bobby. "Might get a GED, might not."

"You know, you won't be able to get a good job without one."

Alex glanced over at Bobby again, this time catching his eye. She shrugged once again. "We'll see."

The Sheriff stood up. "I should be going."

"Okay." Bobby stood up from behind the desk, seeing her out. When she was gone he returned. "Good riddance," he grumbled. "How about that drink?"

Alex huffed. "Get it yourself." She watched him disappear into the kitchen. She sighed.


	15. Sex and Violence

**May 13th, 2009**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**I** t was more than a month later. Alex was laying on the study floor, feet on the couch, focusing on her breathing. In and out. In and out. It was final. She was bored. She let out a loud groan, banging her head once against the ground.

"If you're so bored, get up and do something," Bobby snapped, looking over at her from the desk. 

"Ugh . . ." Alex groaned again, rolling onto her stomach. 

"Alex. Stand up." 

Alex rolled back over onto her back with a dramatic grunt. 

"Okay." Bobby stood up. He walked over to her and poked Alex with his foot. "Come on, get up." 

Alex let out another wordless groan, curious to see what Bobby would do. 

Bobby reached down and grabbed her by the arms, hauling her to her feet. Alex let him. "What?" she groaned. 

"Get off your ass and do something."

Alex rolled her eyes and walked over to the back door. "Oh." She stepped back, letting Garth in. "Hey." 

"Hey." Garth looked her up and down, a goofy grin on his face. "How are you doing?" 

"Good. You?" 

"Good. Bobby's . . ?" 

"Study." Alex let Garth led the way into the study. "Found someone," she said, dramatically collapsing on the couch. 

"Get out," Bobby told her. 

Alex did. She hurried upstairs, closing her door. Then she plopped down on her bed with a huff. She grabbed her phone off her nightstand, dialing a number. It rang, then rang again, then again. Finally, someone picked up the other line. "What?" 

"What do you mean, 'what?' " Alex scoffed. "Good day to you, too." 

"What do you want?" Dean asked again. 

"Dunno. You busy? On a case?" 

"Yeah. Husbands have been ganking their wives. They were all happily married, no problems. The guy knew perfectly clear what he was doing. Said a stripper made him do it. They all said that, actually." 

"Oh. Okay then. Strippers made 'em do it. Sounds like your kind of case." 

In the distance, she heard Sam snicker. 

"Is that Sammy?" 

"Yeah. Hey." 

"Sammy-boy! How's it going?" 

"Good, I guess." 

"Okay. Awesome. So. Anything else with these stripper murders?" 

"Uh, yeah. There was a high level of some hormone, uh, love hormone, in their bodies. Um, amroxo--"

"Oxytocin," she heard Sam corrected. 

"Oxytocin," Dean repeated. "Unusually high levels. The coroner said she'd never seen 'em that high." 

"So you're dealing with lovestruck husbands. Never heard of that one before. I'll bring it up with Bobby."

"Yeah, okay." Dean hung up, and Alex sighed, once again bored. She glanced over at the vampire skull. "Hey, Ernie. How's life? Sorry. Bad subject." She laughed at her own joke, then rolled her eyes, falling back on her bed. She had named the skull Ernie after much deliberation between that, Benedict, Archibald, and Bobby -- she thought Bobby would be proud to have a skull named after him. 

Deciding that she was thirsty, she headed downstairs. Bobby and Garth were in the study, deep in conversation. Bobby was shaking his head in disbelief, and Alex knew it was directed at Garth. She entered the kitchen and pulled out a Coke. She pulled herself onto the dirty countertop and cracked it open. Both hunters glanced over at her. She shot them a confused smile, then took a sip. "Can I help you boys?"

Bobby snorted in annoyance. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" 

"No?" 

"Get outside." 

Alex rolled her eyes, but did as he said. She wandered out into the salvage yard among the cars. A dusty brown sedan sat in the center, and Alex deduced it to be Garth's. She walked farther in, past the rusting cars and past the piles of to-be-recycled steel. They were to be shipped off in a few days, which would bring in much needed money. She sighed, walking into the first large building. The Marquis was sitting there, the engine propped open. Alex studied it, the tangle of tubes and wires too confusing to make out. She decided to leave it for Bobby to finish. 

The sound of a car starting and driving away caught Alex's attention. She went back into the house to see Garth sitting there, beer in hand. 

"Uh, where's Bobby?" Alex looked around, confused. 

"He went down to the library." Garth put down the bottle, standing up. "Alex, right?" 

"Yup. That's me." Alex sat down on the desk, keeping a good distance from the hunter. Sure, she had seen him a lot during those four months with Bobby. He was a good friend of Bobby, and Alex knew him well, but there was an ever-constant reminder in her head to be wary around any and all hunters that wandered through Bobby's. Still, he didn't seem like much of a threat.

"Is there any food around here?" Garth stood up, heading towards the kitchen. 

"You're in luck. I went to the store a couple days ago." Alex watched him look through the cabinets. "Take anything you want." 

 

 **B** obby didn't come back for a few hours. When he did, he was carrying a folder stuffed with several notes. He dropped it all on his desk, then handed a piece of paper to Garth. "Here ya go. You're dealing with a skinwalker." 

Alex slipped out of the room, waiting for Garth to leave. When he did, she went back downstairs. "Bobby." 

"What'd you want?" 

"I, uh, I talked with Sam and Dean. They're hunting strippers." 

"What?" That actually made Bobby look up. 

"Yeah. Three guys iced their wives. Dean said they knew perfectly well what they were doing, and that all three said these strippers made them do it." 

"Like, told them to do it, or possessed them, or what?" 

"I dunno." Alex shrugged and leaned against the wall. "They also said that there was a high level of this love hormone in their system. Uh, omoxycilin?" 

"Oxytocin." 

"Yeah." 

"Huh." Bobby stood up and walked towards the basement door. 

He left, and Alex let out a frustrated noise. "Good talk," she called after him. 

 

 **I** t was eight o'clock by the time she sat down to eat dinner. Bobby walked in, talking on his phone. He sat down across from Alex, and she shifted her plate closer to her. Bobby put the phone on speaker, and Sam's voice came through. 

"--like I thought," he was saying. "So, I was hoping you'd know." 

"Yeah." Bobby reached for an open bottle of beer. "Actually, Alex was telling me about this. Oxytocin, huh?" 

"Yeah." 

"Don't forget the strippers," Alex chimed in. 

"Alex." 

"Hide-y-ho, Sammy boy." 

Sam let out a breath. "So, what were you thinking, Bobby?" 

"Well, I did a bit of digging," Bobby began. "Alex said it wasn't like a typical possession, which ruled out all the usual suspects. But the oxytocin was the key. You're dealing with a siren." 

"A siren? Like --" 

"Yup. Full on Odysseus. A greek siren." 

"Okay. How do you kill one?" 

"Not sure." 

"Bronze knife, I think." Alex pulled a thoughtful face. "Ninety percent sure." 

"That ain't good enough," Bobby countered. "I'll look into it and get back." He started to hang up. 

"Mm! Sam!" Alex knocked Bobby's hand away, leaning closer to the phone. "Another thing." 

"What?" 

"Siren's infect their victims." 

"Yeah, we figured. Through sex." 

"No. Not just that. Touch. A single touch is really all it takes. So, uh, don't touch anyone?" 

"Okay." Sam didn't really sound like he completely believed her, and hung up. Alex let out a frustrated noise.

"Bronze knife, huh?" 

"I think?" 

"That's like a shishiga. You sure you're not getting confused?" 

Alex frowned, disheartened. "Maybe." 

 

 **A** lex got up the next morning and hurried downstairs. "Collins called." 

"Good morning to you." Alex muttered to Bobby. "What does he want?" 

"A couple of his helpers were unavailable. He's got two cows that need to be slaughtered this morning up at Leo's. I told him you'd do it." 

"Thanks a lot." Alex wolfed down a quick breakfast than quickly changed into torn jeans and an old shirt. Calling a good-bye to Bobby, she grabbed the keys to the truck and stepped outside. 

 

 **I** t was a ten minute drive to Leo's butcher. She pulled the truck into the long driveway past herds of cows before halting it next to a small white building. Mr. Collins was already there along with Walt and Jared. Alex got out. "Hey." 

"Howdy." Jared threw her a mock salute, and Alex grinned. "Haven't seen you in awhile." 

"I've been busy." Alex shoved her keys in her pocket. "How many?" 

"Two. Numbers 22-879 and 22-883." Walt motioned out to the pasture vaguely. He exchanged a few more words with Leo, then picked up his rifle and headed out to the field. 

Jared handed her a large knife. "You're on throat duty." 

Alex took the knife, grumbling in her head. She followed Walt out. They quickly separated the cow, and Walt quickly shot one in the head. It collapsed, and Alex hurried forward to slit its throat. Blood gushed out, and she jumped back. After a few seconds, the cow began kicking erratically, the result not of the cow being in pain, but of the nerves in the spinal cord. The cow was quite dead. 

After the second one had been slain and the first had stopped kicking, Jared drove his truck out to them. The tied chains around the first cow's feet and dragged it up towards the white building. There it was deposited, and Alex set to work on skinning it. She cut off the front legs and tossed them to the side, then cut down the stomach, careful not to sever the thin membrane that held in the guts. She grabbed the skin with one fist, pulling it tight, while she cut the rest away with the knife. She cut down the flank, then started on the other side.

By this time, Jared had brought up the second cow, and was starting on that. Walt was setting up the pulley. Alex started on the back legs. She cut the hide away up to the joint, where she cut through the tendons and around the joint. Then, which a sudden jolt of force, she pulled the leg off. She tossed it aside. Then she cut off the last one. Finally, she made one last, final cut down the center, and the organs bubbled up. Walt set the tripod crane up around her, and she hook the hooks under the tendons. Walt hoisted the skinned cow up into the air.

 

 **A** lex drove back to Bobby's. She quickly took a shower and changed out of her blood-stained clothes before jumping down the stairs to the kitchen. "Bobby!" she yelled. 

"What?" 

"I'm hungry!" 

"Who am I, your mother?" Bobby stuck his head out of the basement door, frowning. 

"Maybe." Alex watched Bobby disappear back into the basement. 

Suddenly, Bobby came running up. "Phone." 

"Here." Alex handed it to him, confused. Bobby dropped a heavy book open on the table, took the phone, and dialed a number. "Sam?" 

"Speaker?" 

Bobby acquiesced, and Sam's voice came over the phone. "Hey Bobby." 

"Sam. You find her yet?" 

"Ah . . . no. And it doesn't seem like she's slowing down any. You got anything?" 

"Well, some lore from a dusty Greek poem. Shockingly, it's pretty vague."

"Hold a sec, I'll put you speaker." 

Alex waited a moment. "Dean-o!" She called. "Afternoon." 

"Uh, hey?" 

Bobby cleared his throat. "It says you need a 'bronze dagger covered in the blood of a sailor under the spell of the song'." 

"I was close," Alex chimed in. 

"Except you forgot about the blood part," Bobby shot back. "That couldn't ended real bad." 

Alex shrugged. "Sorry." 

"Okay. So, the blood of a sailor under the spell of a song," Dean said. "What the hell does that mean?" 

"You got me," Bobby began. 

"I got a guess," Alex put in quietly. 

"Hm?" 

Alex pulled the phone closer. "Okay. So I'm guessing 'a sailor under the spell of a song' means someone who's been infected by the siren. Uh, so, someone with the high levels oxytocin in their blood?" 

Next to her, Bobby nodded in slow agreement. "And I'm pretty sure Alex was right about infecting victims through sex." 

"Supernatural STD," Dean reiterated. 

"Yeah. Sure." Alex looked around the kitchen. Books were everywhere, piled high on every chair. 

"Yeah, well, however it happens, once it's done, the siren's got to watch her back. She get's a dose of her own medicine . . ."

"It kills her," Sam finished. 

"So we just got to find a way to juice on of the OJ's in jail?" 

"Not that easy. None of the guys are under the spell anymore." Bobby finally said. "Haven't got a clue where you're gonna get the blood you need." 

After a second's pause, Sam said, "I think I might have an idea." 

"Be careful. These things are tricky bitches. Wrap you up in knots before you know what hit ya." 

"Yeah, thanks Bobby." 

Bobby hung up. Alex grumbled under her breath, then got up to find something to eat. 

"You still hungry?" Bobby asked. 

"Yeah." 

Bobby frowned. "Fine. I'll make us something, okay? You start reading." He motioned towards the pile of books, and Alex threw her head back dramatically. 

 

 **S** he read for a good fifteen minutes. The house was starting to smell good, and Alex inhaled deeply, looking over at the older hunter. He had returned to the kitchen, and was now standing in front of the stove. "Bobby?" she asked innocently, rolling her head back against the chair. "What are you wearing?" 

"Bit of a personal question," Bobby huffed back. 

" _βλάκας_ ," Alex mumbled. _Moron_. "I was talking about that apron. Turn around." Bobby grumbled, but did so. Alex ran an eye over the apron. " _Kiss the cook_ ," she read, then snickered. 

"Shut up." Bobby turned back to the pan. 

"Whatcha cooking?" 

"None of your damn business." 

"Is too my damn business," Alex retorted. When Bobby didn't respond, she frowned. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry I made fun of your fabulous apron. Now. What's for lunch?" 

"Hamburger. Now keep reading." The phone rang, but Bobby didn't move towards it. 

Alex sighed, then answered it. "Hello?" 

"Yes, hello. Assistant Director Kaiser, please." 

"Hang on." Alex motioned Bobby over. "He's right here." 

She handed the phone to Bobby. "Hello?" he asked gruffly. Pause. "Yeah, that's me." A longer pause. "Are you questioning my authority?" Bobby listened for a second. "Well, you coulda fooled me. Last time I checked, son, D.C. has jurisdiction. Or am I wrong?" Bobby turned back towards the phones, a frown across his face. "Well, good. Well, the next time you want to waste my time asking stupid questions, don't." With that, Bobby hung up. "Oh, those idjits," he muttered. 

"Well?" Alex crossed her legs, looking up expectantly. 

"Stiles and Murdoch. That's some of Sam and Dean's aliases, right?" 

Alex nodded. "Yeah." 

Bobby pulled the meat out of the frying pan and put it on a plate. "When we're done eating, remind me to check up on this Nick Monroe person." 

"Consider it done." Alex frowned as Bobby slid a hamburger patty onto a plate and handed it to her. "Is this all?" 

"What? Isn't this good enough for you, princess?" 

Alex snorted. "γαμήσου." _Fuck off._

"Watch your tongue," Bobby snorted, and Alex let out a sly smile. 

 

 **A** lex didn't see Bobby again until nearly five. She had spent some time down at Charlie's Antiques, and was now just getting back. She walked into the kitchen, eyes running over the room. They came to rest on the phones. Right. "Bobby?" 

"What?" Bobby's voice came from upstairs. 

Alex hurried up to the second floor, looking around. Then she ascended to the third floor. There he was in the library. "Hey. Uh, did you call about Nick Monroe?" 

Bobby looked up. "Uh, no. Not yet. Think it's worth it?" 

Alex shrugged. "Dunno." She turned to leave, then turned back, an idea reaching her mind. "I mean, they are dealing with a shapeshifting monster. Might be a good precaution." 

Bobby frowned. "That's true." He heaved a loud sigh, closing his book and standing up. "Let's go get that taken care of." 

Alex followed him to the second floor than turned into her bedroom. She sighed, looking around. Her duffle bag was just laying on the ground next to all her clothes, and her journal was laying open on the ground. She slowly moved to pick it up, knowing Bobby wouldn't be happy finding it there. There wasn't that many rules here, but apparently journals were important. She tossed it on her bed, then pulled out her laptop, crossing her legs. She leaned against the wall, losing herself in the comfort of the internet. 

"Alex!" Bobby ran up the stairs, and Alex slammed her laptop closed, concerned. Bobby opened her door, leaning in. "Called about Nick Monroe." 

"And?" 

"He's not a real FBI agent." 

"Siren?" 

"I don't know of any hunter using that alias. I'd say better safe than sorry." 

Alex cursed under her breath. "So the Winchesters could easily be infected." 

"And trying to kill each other. Come on. We're leaving." 

Alex frowned. "You're basing all this on the fact that Monroe isn't real? I mean, he could just be some nutjob."

Bobby shook his head. "It ain't worth risking. W're leaving. Now."

"Now?"

"Now."

 

 **T** hree and a half hours later, Bobby's cell rang. "Get that," Bobby told her. 

Alex leaned over the seat, looking for it. It took her a long time, and by the time she had it in her hands, it had stopped ringing. She frowned, checking to see who called. "Dean," she told him. "He left a message." 

Bobby cursed quietly. "Balls. What does it say?" 

In response, Alex played it back. Dean's worried voice came through. "Sam's in trouble, Bobby. I think the siren's worked her mojo on him. Give me a call as soon as you get back."

"Balls." Bobby stepped on the gas, and the car increased speed. "Call him back."

Alex tried. "Not working. Line's busy."

Bobby cursed again. "We'll be there in an hour. Hopefully they haven't killed each other by then."

Alex muttered in low agreement. On a hunch, she pulled out her cell phone and called Sam. 

He answered. "Alex." 

"Sam." Alex breathed his name in relief. "You're okay." 

"Yeah, of course." 

"Yeah, uh, where are you?" 

"The motel." Sam seemed confused. 

"Which motel?" 

"Uh, the Lion's Pride motel. What's going on?" 

"Nothing. But, uh, Dean thinks you're . . ." Alex trailed off, figuring completing that sentence would not be wise. "We couldn't get a hold of Dean." 

"He's off with Monroe or something." Sam's voice grew angry at the mention of the agent's name. 

Alex groaned. "Dean's with Monroe," she told Bobby. "Listen, Sam, uh, Monroe's not real." 

"Uh-oh. I got to go."

Sam hung up, and Alex closed her phone, tossing it in the backseat. "Shit." 

 

 **Bedford, Louisiana**

**W** ithin the hour Alex and Bobby were racing into the Lion's Pride Motel. Bobby held a bronze knife, and Alex, well, Alex took up the rear. Unarmed, except for her completely useless gun. So basically unarmed. 

"Come on." Bobby led them through the hall, face darkened with a frown. A loud crack and a thud rang through the halls, and they froze, sharing a look of worry. Then Bobby took off, Alex following. 

They turned a corner, and Alex froze. A door was broken down, and three figures appeared in front of them. Alex recognized Sam laying on a broken door. Dean was standing over him, fire axe in hand. 

"Do it for me, Dean." A new voice tore Alex's attention away from the brothers. A man stood in the doorway, studying the scene before him with a twisted grin. 

"Tell me again how weak I am, Sam, huh?" Dean hissed. "How I hold you back?" He raised the axe, and Bobby rushed forward. With a burst of strength he knocked the axe away and stabbed Dean in the shoulder with bronze knife. Alex hurried forward, pulling Dean back as he cried out, dropping the axe. She kicked it far away. 

In the corner of her eye, she saw the third man start to run. 

"No!" Sam yelled as Bobby stepped over him, knife in hand. "No!" 

Bobby ignored him. He hurled the knife through the air; it lodged itself in between the man's shoulder blades. The man stopped, shoulders rolled back. Then he staggered forward, hand finding its way to a wall. Alex's eyes found their way to the mirror next to him; a creatures stared back; a thin, grey skinned, hairless creature with a sunken face. It slowly collapsed to the ground, dead. 

Alex let go of Dean, who leaned back against the wall. Sam sat up, eyes wide, and Alex noticed a good sized cut on his neck. She knelt down beside Sam, pulling the collar of his shirt away. "You okay?" she whispered. 

Sam nodded, his eyes flickering over to her. They returned to Dean, and Alex gently studied the wound. It didn't seem too deep, and had mostly stopped bleeding. However, the shirt collar was stained red. She clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Anything else hurt?" she asked gently. "Any other cuts?" She wiped the blood off of a small nick on his cheek, but deemed it too shallow to need attention. "Well, uh, by the way, happy birthday." She patted Sam on the shoulder, and he grunted in acknoweldgement. She turned her attention to Dean. The two Winchesters were still staring at each other, breathing heavily. 

"Alex." Bobby's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Help me get this body into the room." 

"I'll get him." Dean started to get up, but Alex held him down. He met her gaze, and Alex let him get up. She helped Sam back into the room -- even though he really didn't want her help -- and then watched as Dean and Bobby lay the body on the bed. 

"Dean." Alex caught his attention. "How's the shoulder?" 

"It's fine." Dean brushed her off, and Alex frowned, shaking her head. 

"You sure? Nothing hurts?" 

"I'm fine, okay?" Dean snapped, and Alex flinched. 

"Be nice, boy," Bobby snapped back. "She's just trying to help, dammit." 

Dean lowered his gaze. "Sorry," he mumbled. 

Alex grunted, hurt by his actions. 

Bobby noticed. "Alex. Go see if you can find some ice. I'm sure these guys are pretty beat up." 

"Okay." Alex sullenly did as he asked. 

 

 **S** he found ice in the lobby, and brought it up wrapped in a couple shirts. She handed one pack to Sam, the other to Dean. Both immediately put them on their face. 

"Hey, Alex. Look." Bobby called her over, and Alex's eyes widened in interest. "This is a siren." 

Nick Monroe's body had changed into the grey-skinned creature Alex had seen before. She nodded. "Neat. Nasty creature." 

"Yeah." 

Alex looked over at Dean. "He infected you first?" 

"Yup." 

"Your siren was a dude." 

"So?" 

Alex smirked. "I'm not saying gay, but . . ."

Dean just glared at her. 

"Gay," Alex whispered, turning back to the siren. 

"Hey. He said he chose a guy because apparently he thought I needed a brother. Not gay." 

"Gay." Alex ignored everything he said after that. 

 

 **S** he and Bobby left Sam and Dean to take care of the body and retired to a different room to sleep. Alex woke up late that morning. Bobby was already up, and Alex followed him over to Sam and Dean's room. It was empty; apart from the broken door, there was no sign that anyone had lived there. Bobby walked away, pulling out his phone. Alex yawned, watching him. He exchanged a few words, then turned back to Alex. "They're a few minutes out. Let's go." 

Alex followed him down and into the car. They stopped at a gas station on the way out of town, and Bobby picked up three bottles of an off-brand coke. Alex cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing. They got back into the car. 

 

 **T** he eldest hunter pulled the rusty car to a stop. Alex saw the sleek Impala parked in front of them, and she opened the door and got out, her opened bottle in hand. Bobby walked up to the Winchesters, the other two bottles in hand. He handed them out. 

"Thanks," Sam mumbled, taking his. 

Dean studied the bottle. "Soda?" 

"You guys are driving, ain't ya?" Bobby glanced up at Dean. 

"Like that stops them," Alex muttered under her breath. She walked over to Sam and leaned against the car next to him. 

Sam cut in. "Thanks Bobby. You know, if you hadn't shown up when you did . . ." 

Bobby shrugged. "Done the same for me more than once. Course, you coulda picked up the phone. Only took one call to figure out Agent Nick Monroe wasn't real." 

Both of the Winchesters looked down, embarrassed. 

Bobby continued. "You two going to be okay?" 

"Yeah, fine." 

"Yeah, good," Dean echoed. 

Bobby tipped his dirty baseball cap then turned back to the rusty car. "See ya." Alex reluctantly followed. As she opened her door, Bobby spoke. "You know, those sirens are nasty things. That it got to you, that's no reason to feel bad." Then he got in. 

Alex looked up at the two of them. "Bye, then. See you around. I guess." Then she got into the passenger seat. Bobby peeled out and drove away. 

 

 **T** he car ride back was completely silent. Bobby drove, and Alex rested her head against the glass, lost in thought. 

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

Within four hours she was back in her room. Her journal lay next to her, and a rough drawing of the siren was sketched on the pages. Her phone rang, and she looked over at it. _Dean_. "Hello?" 

"Alex?" 

"What's up?" 

"Are you alone?" 

"Yeah." Alex narrowed her eyes. "Everything okay?" 

"I . . . I don't know. I mean, Sam's -- it's Sam. He's been calling Ruby. They . . . they've been hunting Lilith on their own." 

Alex frowned. "Oh no." 

"Yeah. Is that bad?" 

Alex searched for the right words. "I . . . I wish he wouldn't . . . I don't trust Ruby, Dean. I just don't." 

"Me neither." Suddenly Dean stopped talking. "It's Alex," she heard him say. "Mm-hmm. We're just talking." Alex heard Sam's faint voice on the other end. "I can talk to her if I want," Dean rebutted. "It's just Alex, dude." Another pause. "I don't care you don't like her--" Suddenly Dean hung up, and Alex frowned. She sullenly tossed her phone onto the nightstand.


	16. On the Head of a Pin

**June 17th, 2009**

**I** t was a month later when Bobby got the news from Sam and Dean. Pamela was dead. Sadness pulsed through Alex. Pamela the psychic. Dead. The funeral was in Cheyenne, Wyoming. They packed their bags and headed out. 

 

**Cheyenne, Wyoming**

**A** lex tossed open the motel door open. She tossed her bag on the floor, flicking on the lights. Bobby followed. Nothing was really said. They had just gotten back from the funeral, and neither felt like talking. Alex sighed, sitting on the bed. 

"Alex." 

Alex turned at her name. She let out a frustrated breath. "Uriel." 

"The hell?" Bobby exclaimed, looking over at the angels. 

"What do you want?" Alex snapped. 

"Come with us."

 _Us_? For the first time, Alex saw Castiel standing behind Uriel. "Why?" she asked. 

"We don't have to answer to you." 

Then the motel room was gone. They were in a dark room. As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a different, empty motel room. "The hell?" she snapped. 

"Be quiet." Uriel pushed her towards one of the beds. She sat down, slightly nervous. There they waited. 

The door opened, and two figures walked in. Alex immediately recognized them. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find her voice. Uriel looked down at her, and Alex knew exactly why she couldn't speak. She glared at him. 

"Ah, home crappy home." Alex recognized Dean's voice.

The lights flicked on. 

"Winchester and Winchester." Uriel greeted the two men. 

Dean groaned. "Oh, come on." He saw Alex, and he looked at her, gaze questioning. She let out a frustrated breath in response. 

"You are needed," Uriel informed Dean. 

Alex looked for Cas. He was standing behind Uriel, facing the left wall, unblinking. 

"Needed?" Dean spat. "We just got home from being needed." 

"Don't take that tone with me, boy," Uriel snapped. 

"No, you mind your damn tone with us." Dean looked down at Alex. "What are you doing here?" 

Alex opened her mouth, and her voice was back. "I don't know," she growled. "I was dragged her by these winged dicks." 

"Be quiet," Uriel ordered. 

Alex ignored him. "And what the hell am I even doing here? I am actually needed?" 

"I said, be quiet!" 

Alex let out a wordless huff.

"Listen. We just got back from Pamela's funeral," Sam began..

"Pamela," Dean added. "You know, precious little psychic Pamela? You remember her. Cas, you remember her. You burned her eyes out. Remember that?" His tone was growing sharp. 

Alex glanced over at Castiel. His face seemed one of disinterest and regret. 

"Good times," Dean continued. "Yeah, then she died saving one of your precious seals. So maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for _five freaking minutes!_ "

"We raised you out of Hell for our purposes." Uriel's voice rose as well. 

"Yeah, what were those again? What exactly do you want with me?" 

"A little gratitude, for starters." 

"Oh," Dean scoffed, brushing the angel off. 

Castiel turned to face the Winchester. "Dean, we know this is difficult to understand--" He suddenly stopped talking, glancing at Uriel. Alex narrowed her eyes worriedly. 

"And we don't care." Uriel cast Castiel a meaningful look. Castiel returned to studying the walls. "Now, seven angels have been murdered, all from our garrisons. The last one was killed tonight." 

Alex let out a murmur of sympathy. It went unnoticed by the angels. 

"Demons?" Dean suggested. "How are they doing it?"

"We don't know," Uriel responded. 

"I'm sorry," Sam cut in, "but what do you want us to do about it? I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels is out of our league, right?" 

"How do we know it's a demon?" Alex countered. "I mean, we have to examine all possibilities." 

"Well, it's kind of been demons and angels, ya know?"

"We can handle the demons, thank you very much," Uriel told Sam. 

"Once we find out who it is," Castiel added. 

"So you need our help hunting a demon?" Dean sounded skeptical. 

"Not quite." Castiel finally turned to approach them. He stopped behind Uriel. "We have Alistair." 

"Great. He should be able to name your trigger man."

"But he won't talk. Alistair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse." 

"Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture," Dean admitted. "You guys are out of your league." 

"That's why we've come to his student," Uriel said. "You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got." 

Dean looked down at his shoes, shocked, and Alex stood up. "No way," she protested. "Cas!" She turned to the blue-eyed angel. He refused to meet her gaze. 

"Be quiet!" Uriel turned on her, eyes blazing. 

Alex met his gaze angrily, shoulder's squared. But she said nothing. 

"Dean, you're our best hope," Castiel said quietly. 

"No." Dean shook his head in disbelief. "No way. You can't ask me to do this, Cas. Not this." 

Uriel's face remained cold. "Who said anything about asking?" 

Then they were gone again. 

 

 **T** hey were in a dark room. Alex blinked, her eyes adjusting once again. Castiel motioned to his right, and Dean walked over to a small window in a door, shoulders tense. 

"The devil's trap is old Enochian," Castiel said. "He is bound completely." 

"Fascinating," Dean replied scathingly. He turned away. "Where's the door?" 

"Where are you going?" 

"Hitch back to Cheyenne, thank you very much." Dean walked away and Alex followed. They passed Uriel, who suddenly appeared in front of them. 

"Angels are dying, boy," he said quietly. 

"Everybody dying these days," Dean shot back. "And hey, I get it. You're all powerful. You can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this." 

"This is too much to ask, I know," Castiel said, his voice quiet and calm. "But we have to ask it." 

Alex saw Dean turn to look Castiel, then turned back to Uriel. "I want to talk to Cas alone." 

Uriel blinked in acknowledgement. "I think I will go seek revelation. We might have some further orders."

"Well, get some doughnuts while you're out." 

Uriel actually laughed, something Alex didn't know angels could do. "Ah, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy." Then he disappeared. 

"You guys don't walk enough," Dean said dryly, turning to Castiel. "You're gonna get flabby." 

Alex let out an amused noise, but Castiel didn't react. 

Dean noticed. "You know," he told the angel, "I'm beginning to think that junkless has a better sense of humor than you do." 

"Uriel's the funniest angel in the garrison," Castiel responded quite seriously. "Ask anyone." 

Alex laughed, and Castiel stared at her, eyes questioning. She didn't explain herself. 

Dean walked over to him, ignoring Alex. "What's going on, Cas? Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?" 

"My superiors have begun to question my sympathies." 

"Your sympathies?" Dean didn't understand. 

"I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You. They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgement." 

"He's been demoted," Alex explained to Dean, who still looked confused. "Uriel's taken over control of the garrison. What do you mean 'humans in your charge'? Do I have an angel?" 

"No. The three of you have been placed in my charge," Castiel corrected. "I am suppose to watch over you." 

Dean huffed. "Yeah, well, great. But tell Uriel, or whoever -- you don't want me doing this. Trust me." 

"Want it, no. But I have been told we need it."

Dean walked over to the door, looking through. "You ask me to open this door and walk through it, you may not like what walks back out." 

Castiel let out a breath before speaking, his voice low and quiet. "For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this." 

Dean just shook his head. He stood there, his back to them, for several seconds. Then he squared his shoulders, and walked through the door. 

Alex let out a painful breath. The door closed, and she turned to Cas. "What am I doing here?" she asked quietly. 

"I . . . I thought you could help," Castiel admitted slowly. "Uriel did not want you to come, but I was hoping . . ." He trailed off, leaning against a metal table. 

Alex did the same by his side. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll do what I can." She paused. "Cas, why did you tell Uriel what I know?" 

"You can change this war for the better," Castiel insisted. "With you, we can win." 

Alex closed her eyes. "Cas . . ." she sighed. "I . . . I don't want people -- angels, demons, you name it -- I don't want them to know I know what I do. Do you know what they'll do to me? They'll force me to tell them what I know. But I won't, Cas. And they'll torture me. I know the angels. Most of them wouldn't even care."

"They wouldn't." However, Castiel didn't sound confident. "I won't let them." 

Alex briefly leaned her shoulder against his. "I know you won't. But you won't always be able to watch over me. And if word about me gets out, everyone will be after me. And I'm scared you'd get hurt."

"You would get hurt as well." 

"Yeah, well," Alex just shook her head. "Just, please don't tell anyone else. And let's pretend I only know a few things with Uriel, okay? But I'll help if I can." 

"If you didn't want people to know about you," Castiel began slowly, "why did you tell me?" 

Alex shrugged. "Because I trust you." 

There was a heart-wrenching scream, and Alex jumped. 

 

 **T** he screaming didn't stop. Alex screwed her eyes shut, trying to block it out. Her hands gripped the table until her knuckles turned white. After a while she felt a hesitant hand cover hers. It flinched several times before resting lightly on hers. Alex didn't pull away, and the hand relaxed against hers. 

Castiel spoke, distracting Alex from the noise. "If you don't remember this, I can bring you back to Sam." 

"No." Alex shook her head. "I mean, something about this is familiar. I . . . I just can't place it." 

"If you wish, I can read your mind." Castiel paused, as if embarrassed by asking. "If this is familiar, I can find it, even if you can't remember." 

Alex firmly shook her head. "No. I can't let anyone in my head. God knows what else you'll see. That . . . that would be bad. Really bad." 

They fell into silence. 

 

 **A** s the time went on, the screams turned to painful groans. The lights flickered, and then exploded. Alex looked up. 

"Anna." Castiel didn't even look behind him to see the angel. He dropped Alex's hand. 

"Hello, Castiel." Anna circled around to stand in front of them. 

Castiel looked confused. "Your human body --" 

"It was destroyed. I know. But I guess I'm sentimental. Called in a few old favors and . . ." 

She was interrupted by another scream. 

"You shouldn't be here," Castiel said quietly. "We still have orders to kill you." 

"Somehow I don't think you'll try." Anna looked around. Her eyes rested on Alex, then continued around the room. "Where's Uriel?" 

"He went to receive revelation." 

"Right." Anna's eyes rested on the door. "Is that Alistair?" 

"Yes." 

"And Dean?" Her eyes flickered back over Alex. "Why are the humans here?" 

"Dean is helping us. And so was Alex." 

Anna's eyes went back to the door. "Is he torturing Alistair?" 

Her question was met with silence. 

"Why are you letting Dean do this?" 

"He's doing God's work." 

"Torturing?" Anna sounded skeptical. "That's God's work? Stop him, Cas, please. Before you ruin the one real weapon you have." She walked back over to him. 

"Who are we to question God's will?" 

"Unless it isn't his will." 

That stopped Cas. "Then where do the orders come from?" He placed on hand on the table, leaning against it. 

"I don't know. One of our superiors, maybe, but not him. The father you love. You think he wants this? You think he'd ask this of you? You think this is righteousness?" 

Castiel said nothing, but couldn't meet her gaze. 

"What you're feeling? It's called doubt." She reached out and placed a hand over his. "These orders are wrong and you know it. But you can do the right thing. You're afraid Cas. I was too. But together we can still--" 

"Together?" Castiel spat, roughly pulling his hand away. "I am nothing like you." He walked past her to face the door. "You _fell_. Go." 

"Cas . . ."

Castiel turned around, shoulder's squared, and it was almost like Alex could see the wings unfurling from his shoulders, flared high above his head. "Go." 

Anna disappeared. 

Something came to mind, but Alex hesitated. "Cas?" she finally asked, ignoring the tortured cries of the demon. 

Castiel faced Alex. "What?" 

"Uh, what can kill an angel?"

"An angel blade. And some spells."

"How did the seven angels die?" 

"They were stabbed." 

"With an angel blade." Alex closed her eyes, knowing what happened. 

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "That's not possible. Only angels have them. Unless one was stolen." 

"Or unless we have a defective angel." Alex threw her head back in frustration. "Ugh. Why am I so slow? I knew this." 

"You know who it is." 

"Yeah, but you're not going to like it." She hesitated. Something was wrong. "Hey. Is Dean done?" Alex hurried over to the window, looking through. Terror ran up her spine as she realized Alistair was free. He was punching Dean in the face over and over again. Not even thinking of herself, she threw open the door and rushed in. 

Alistair glanced up. He was wearing a new vessel. His blue shirt was soaked in blood, and it dripped down the side of his face. "Well, look who it is." His voice was cold and raspy, and Alex suppressed a shiver. 

"Hello, Alistair." Her voice was shaking only the tiniest bit. 

The demon picked it up. He dropped Dean, who collapsed to the floor, face swollen and bloody. "Is that fear I hear?" 

"Highly doubt it." Alex kept her head high. "Let him go." 

"I do not believe you are in any position to be demanding anything." The demon took a step closer. Then his head tipped to one side. "Now, I believe last time we met, we didn't have a full introduction. What's your name, missy?" 

"They call me Alex." 

"Ah. Alex." Alistair drew out her name, rolling it around on his tongue. "And how exactly do you know me?"

To Alex, he reminded her of the Joker from those Batman movies. His jerky movements, they way he rolled the words around before speaking them. To be completely honest with herself, he terrified her. "Does it matter?" she forced out. 

Dean stirred on the floor. 

"Tell me," Alistair demanded. "You don't want to know what I will do --" he was cut off as something pierced through his heart. 

"You will not touch her," a deep voice growled. 

Alistair turned around to see Castiel, demon knife in hand. He stabbed it back into the demon's chest. The wound glowed golden, but nothing happened.

Castiel appeared in front of Alex, fists balled. 

Alistair looked up from the knife in his chest. "Well, good try," the demon said dryly, reaching for the knife. 

Castiel stretched out his hand, and the knife twisted. Alistair curled his lip in pain. His fingers tightened around the knife handle, and he pulled it out. It clattered to the floor. "Now. I was in the middle of something." He glanced at Alex. "Stay put." Then he turned on the angel. 

Alex scurried out of the way as she watched as the angel and demon fight, unable to do anything Punches flew, too fast for Alex to even comprehend. Suddenly Alistair pinned Castiel against a pillar. He lifted him up, then dropped him, leaving the angel hanging him on a large, jagged broken nail. Castiel clenched his teeth in pain. 

"Well, like roaches, you celestials. Now, I really wish I knew how to kill you. But all I can do is send you back to heaven." Alistair began chanting something in latin, over and over. Alex made out the words _satanica potestas_ : satanic powers. Blue light emanated from Castiel's eyes and mouth, and Alex looked around wildly. She picked up the demon knife and, with a flick of the wrist, sent it sailing through the air. It embedded itself in the demon's back. He cried out and dropped Castiel, turning to her, cold eyes blazing. 

Fear flashed in Alex's eyes, and she took a step back. 

Suddenly Alistair stopped. He choked once, twice. Then he was slammed against the wall. That's when Alex saw Sam. He was standing in the doorway, arm raised towards the demon. "Stupid pet tricks," Alistair growled. 

"Who's murdering the angels?" Sam demanded. "How are they doing it?" 

Alex hurried over to Castiel. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, studying the blood on his face. It didn't look to bad. 

Castiel nodded, sitting up. 

"How are the demons killing the angels?" Sam repeated, twisting his hand. 

"I don't know," Alistair choked out. 

"Right." Sam didn't believe him. 

"It's not us. We're not doing it." 

"I don't believe you." Sam stepped closer. 

Castiel pulled himself to his feet, drawing Alex's attention back to him. She helped him up. 

"Lilith is not behind this," Alistair insisted. "She wouldn't kill seven angels. Oh, she'd kill a hundred, a thousand." 

Sam stopped, glancing back at Alex, asking a silent question. 

She nodded. "He's telling the truth. No demon did this." 

"She's smart," Alistair chuckled. "I hope to see you downstairs in a couple of years." His eyes glittered as he studied the girl. "I think you'd be . . . amusing." He turned his attention back to Sam. "So, go ahead. Send me back, if you can." 

"I'm stronger than that now. Now I can kill." Sam raised his hand again. Gold flashed inside the demon like an x-ray, letting them see the shadows of bones inside. The demon screamed, eyes flying open in pain. Then the light faded. The gruesome face remained there, frozen, and the body slowly collapsed to the ground. 

Fear shot up Alex's spin at that face. She turned away and hurried over to Dean. "Dean?" she asked, shaking him. "Dean!" She looked up at Sam. "He's not responding." She found his pulse, checking his breathing. "But he's alive." 

Sam reached down and, with surprising strength, picked up his brother. He carried him out the door. "Alex," he called. "Come on." 

Alex cast a glance back at Castiel, who stared back unblinking. "You okay?" she asked again. 

He nodded. 

"Alex!" 

Alex hurried after Sam. 

 

 **T** he sun was high in the sky when Sam pulled the Impala into the hospital. He glanced back at Dean, who was laying in the backseat. "Help me get him out." 

Alex nodded, and together they pulled Dean out of the car. He had come to once along the way, but quickly slipped back into unconsciousness. She let Sam carry him into through the double doors. 

 

 **S** he soon found herself standing in the hospital room, looking down at Dean. He was laying on the white sheets, covered in bandages. He was attached to a breathing tube and an IV drip. Alex sighed frustratedly. 

Sam sat next to his brother's side, eye distant. He looked up and rose. Alex glanced behind her to see Castiel standing in the doorway. He met Sam's eyes, then walked down the hall. Sam followed. 

"Sam--" she heard Cas begin.

"Get in there and heal him," Sam demanded. "Miracle. Now." 

"I can't." 

"You and Uriel put him in there--" 

Cas cut him off. "No." 

"--because you couldn't keep a simple devil's trap together!" Sam finished angrily. 

"I don't know what happened." Castiel sounded genuinely apologetic. "The trap . . . it shouldn't have broken. I am sorry." 

"This whole thing is pointless. You understand that? The demons aren't doing the hits. Something else is killing your soldiers." 

"Perhaps Alistair is lying." 

"Alex said he isn't." 

At her name, Alex stepped out into the hall. Sam and Castiel were deep in a heated conversation. Sam had his arms crossed, glaring at the angel. Castiel's face was one of hurt and disbelief. Sam hurried past Alex and back into Dean's room. 

"I'm sorry," Alex began. "It's an angel. It's --" 

Castiel disappeared. 

"Uriel." Alex whispered the name. She shook her head and walked back to Dean. 

 

 **T** hey stayed with him even as the sky grew dark. Eventually a nurse had to ask them to leave. They drove back to their motel in silence. Sam didn't get much sleep. Neither did Alex. She curled up in the sheets, tortured screams haunting her dreams. 

 

 **A** round four in the morning she sat up, giving up on sleeping. She looked down at her clothes; she hadn't changed out of her jeans and shirt. She sighed. 

"Alex."

"Uriel?" Alex blinked back shock. "Uh, can I help you?" 

"Uriel?" Sam looked up. 

"Alex. Come with me." 

Alex barely had time to ask why before they were gone. 

 

 **T** hey were back in the abandoned building, in the room where Dean had tortured Alistair. "What's up?" Alex crossed her arms, slightly pissed. 

"You told Castiel that an angel is behind the deaths of our brothers." 

Alex took a step back. This was bad. "Uh, yeah, I, uh, I suggested it. Why?" 

"Why?" Uriel repeated. He took a menacing step forward. "Do you know who this angel is?" 

"No," Alex lied, forcing her voice to steady. It was hard. 

"I know you're lying, human." 

"Cas?" Alex called weakly. "Castiel! Help--" 

She was cut off as Uriel grabbed her throat, slamming her back into a wall. "You know I killed them, don't you? Who told you?" 

"No one," Alex choked out. _Castiel!_ she yelled it inside her head. _Please help me. Please._

"Uriel." 

Uriel dropped Alex. However, he pulled her up against him, arm across her throat. "Castiel." 

"Uriel. What are you doing?" Castiel took a step forward. 

Uriel tightened his grip on Alex, and she let out a choking noise. 

Castiel stopped. "Let her go." 

"Castiel. So attached to your little humans." 

"She's on our side." 

Uriel loosened his grip on her neck, but didn't let her go. Castiel stepped closer. "Don't," Uriel warned. He shifted, and something cold and metallic pressed against her neck. Alex glanced down at it. Angel blade. 

"What are you doing?" 

"You should have listened to your human, Castiel. She's clever. She figured it out." 

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "About what?" 

"About who's been killing our brothers. It wasn't a demon." 

"Then who?" 

"It was Uriel," Alex forced out. "You're so thick, Cas."

"Uriel. Let her go."

"It's not like I can run from you," Alex added quietly

Uriel, seeing the truth in her words, let her go. 

Alex ran over to Castiel. She stood behind him. "He's the one who set Alistair free." 

"Alistair should have never been taken alive," Uriel insisted. "Really inconvenient, Castiel. Yes, I did turn the screw a little. Alistair should have killed Dean and escaped, and you should have gone on happily scapegoating the demons." He glared at Alex with that last statement, and she forced herself to stand tall. 

"For the murders of our kin?" Castiel squared his shoulders, eyes flashing. 

"Not murders, Castiel. No. My work is conversion." Alex snorted, and Uriel turned to her. "Is something funny?" 

"Conversion?" Alex spat. "Is that what you call it?" 

"Yes. That's what it is." 

"Conversion to what?" Castiel seemed confused.

Uriel didn't directly answer him. "How long have we waited here? How long have we played this game by the rules that make no sense?" 

"It's our father's world, Uriel." 

"Our father? He stopped being that -- if he ever was -- when he created them. Humanity, his favorites. The whining, puking, larva." 

"Are you trying to convert me?" 

"I wanted you to join me. And I still do. With you, we can be powerful enough to --" 

"To . . ." Castiel repeated, still confused. 

"To raise our brother." 

"Lucifer." 

"You remember him? How strong he was? How beautiful?" Uriel stopped, glaring at Alex. "Is something funny?" 

"It's, uh, it's nothing. But, well, how well do you really remember your brother? Strong, yes. Beautiful, uh, sure. But he's really nothing more than a toddler having a temper tantrum." 

"How dare you speak of my brother that way?" Uriel took a menacing step forward. 

Castiel slid out his angel blade, warning his brother to stay back. "Lucifer is not God," he said quietly.

" _God_ isn't God anymore. He doesn't care what we do. I am proof of that." 

"But this? What were you going to do, Uriel? Were you going to kill the whole garrison?" 

"I only killed the ones who said no. Others have joined me, Castiel. Now, please, brother, don't fight me. Help me. Help me spread the word." 

"Don't, Cas," Alex begged. "This isn't right." 

" _You_ can shut your trap!" Uriel snapped. "Because once I am done with this, I will _kill_ you." 

"No." Castiel stepped in front of her. "You will not touch her." 

"Stand with me, brother, and I will spare her. Help me bring on the apocalypse. All you have to do is be unafraid." 

Castiel hesitated. "For the first time in a long time, I think I am." Then he punched his brother in the face. 

Uriel flew back into the wall. He stumbled to his feet and launched himself at his brother, wielding his blade. Alex scrambled backwards, unable to do anything to help. _Hey. This goes to any angel that's out there_ , she prayed desperately. _Castiel is in trouble. Please help him. Please._

Uriel grabbed a metal bar and swung it at Castiel's head. Castiel fell to the floor. "You can't win, Uriel," Castiel insisted. "I still serve God." 

"You haven't even met the man." Uriel punched Castiel across the face. "There is no will." Punch. "No wrath." Punch. "No God." He wound up for a final punch. Then Anna was there, shoving an angel blade in his neck. Uriel froze, eyes wide. 

"Maybe," she said quietly," or maybe not. But there's still me." She pulled the sword out of him, and Uriel collapsed. White light exploded out of his eyes and mouth, and then, he was dead. Blackened wings were seared into the floor. Alex hurried over to Castiel. Anna was already there, helping him up. 

"Are you okay?" Alex asked worriedly, wiping the blood off of his face with her jacket sleeve. 

"Yes, I'm fine." Castiel looked into her worried eyes. "It's okay." He hesitated. "How do you know Lucifer?" 

Alex blinked, confused. "What do you mean?" 

"Anna." Castiel turned to the angel. "Thank you. But you have to go." 

Anna nodded and left. 

Castiel returned his attention to Alex. "You were talking about Lucifer to Uriel. You've seen him in the show." 

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's gonna happen here," Alex said firmly. "The world isn't going to be destroyed, okay? I can promise you that." 

"Are you trying to stop it?" 

Castiel's question caught her off guard, and she blinked. "Stop what?" she asked lamely. 

"The apocalypse. Are you trying to stop it?" 

"Or course," Alex weakly insisted. "Why wouldn't I be? The big question is, what other angels stood with Uriel?" 

Castiel didn't reply. "Let's get you back to Sam." 

They were gone. 

 

 **T** hen Alex was back in the motel room. Sam sat up, looking over at her. "What happened?" 

"Uriel's dead." Alex sat down on the bed. 

"What?" Sam threw his legs over the side of the bed, sitting to face the young girl.

"His loyalties were with Lucifer. He was trying to raise him."

Sam didn't know what to say. "Why were you there?" he finally asked. 

"Because I knew. And he knew I knew because Cas told him I knew. He wanted to kill me." 

"Are you okay?" Sam's eyes narrowed in worry. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine now. Cas and Anna showed up and killed him." 

"Hm." 

"Yep." Alex sat down on the bed. "I need to learn how to shut my mouth." 

Sam snorted. "It's too big to close." 

Alex glared at him light-heartedly, sticking out her tongue. "How's Dean?" 

"I don't know. I was going to leave in a few minutes." Sam looked down at his hands. "I figured if the hospital hasn't called, he hasn't gotten any worse. He'll live." 

"Hm." Alex studied her hands as well. Sam grabbed his jacket, and they hurried to visit Dean.


	17. The Thing That Should Not Be

**July 3rd, 2009**

**Bent Mountain, Virginia**

**I** t was almost a week before Dean was released from the hospital, and another one before he was ready to hunt again. Bobby had been glad to know she was safe, but chastised her for not calling sooner. Alex had to calmly explain that she had been slightly busy, then hung up in frustration. 

Now, they were in Bent Mountain, Virginia. Sam had found a case and was driving; Dean was sleeping in the front seat. He still wasn't healed up completely, and Alex was making sure to keep a wary eye on him for any sign of trouble. Finally, Sam pulled into the Rusty Mountain Lodge and put the car into park. Dean faded into consciousness, rubbing his eyes. "What's up?" 

"We're here." Sam opened the car door and circled around to the trunk. Alex dramatically rolled out of the car, followed by Dean. They brought their bags into their room as they checked in, and Alex threw her stuff on the far bed. 

"So." She glanced around the room. "What brings us here?" 

"Three kids've gone missing." Sam place his stuff on the floor next to the bed. "All around Misiton Lake." 

"Okay." Alex sat down on her bed. 

 

 **A** s soon as they were unpacked, Dean drove them out to the lake. The blue water was ominously still, and Alex was careful not to get to close to the edge. She could easily imagine something coming out of the dark depths, jaws wide. 

"Okay, Alex. Go on." 

"What?" Alex glared up at Sam. 

"Someone's got to check out the lake. Maybe you'll find bodies." 

"Screw you." Alex stepped back behind Sam. "I'm not going in the lake." 

"Nobody's going in the lake." Dean glanced at his brother. He walked down by the shore, pushing through the tall grass. Alex sidestepped away from Sam, studying their surroundings. The ground was littered with undergrowth, and the sun was blocked out by the thick trees above their heads. The only way to the lake she could see was the gravel trail she and saw were standing on. She turned her attention back to the lake. A few rocks poked out of the water along the far shore, and, as Alex looked closer, she could see the tiny waves lapping against their surface. 

"Shit!" Dean's exclamation snapped Alex's attention over to him. 

"What?" Sam took a step in his brother's direction. 

"I found someone." Dean backed up. "I almost fucking stepped on her." 

Alex wrinkled her nose, half out of disgust, half out of amusement. She walked over to Dean. The smell of death was immediate, and her eye caught on the shape of a teenage girl, laying face down in the tall grass. 

"We gonna call her in?" Sam asked, joining them. 

Alex knelt down, picking up a large stick. "How long do you think she's been dead?" 

"Don't poke her with a stick," Dean chastised lightly. 

Alex didn't listen to Dean at all. "Couple of days? Help me turn her over."

"Hell no." However, Dean did as she asked. When the girl was rolled on to her back, Dean let out a huff. 

"Bet that's what killed her," Alex said, somewhat smugly. There was a large hole in the female's stomach. Alex poked around in it with the stick, then frowned. "What?" 

"What's up?" Sam knelt down beside her, looking in. "Is her . . ?"

"Yeah, I think it is." Alex pulled the stick out and looked over at Sam. "That's . . . unusual." 

"What?" Dean looked from his brother to his friend. 

"Her liver is missing." Sam stood up. 

Alex turned the body over and stood up as well. 

"Her liver?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "Uh, okay." 

Alex stepped away from the body. "Speaking of liver and bodily organs, when's lunch? I'm hungry." 

Dean frowned, but Sam let out an amused snort. "Takes right after you, Dean." 

"Whatever. Fine, let's go." Dean led them back to the car. 

 

 **W** hen they entered the diner, Sam asked to use the phone. The waitress acquiesced, and Sam got up and walked into the back. Alex gratefully picked up the menu. "So, liver, huh?" Dean started up conversation. "That's . . . pleasant." 

"Uh-huh." Seeing Dean wanted to talk, Alex put down the menu. "How are you feeling? Not too tired?" 

Dean glanced over at her. "I'm fine," he promised. 

"You sure? 'Cause Alistair really did a number on you." 

"Hm." Dean studied the tree outside the window. "Yeah, well, let's blame Uriel, okay?" 

"Uriel's dead." 

"Yeah. You've told me. Multiple times." Dean let out a long sigh. "I still can't believe it. I thought those angels were suppose to be religious freaks." 

Alex shrugged. "Some angels thought Lucifer was right. They believed that they should not have to bow down to humans. And, I mean, can you really blame them?" 

Dean adverted his gaze. "I guess not," he finally admitted. Sam returned, and their conversation died. 

 

 **A** fter lunch Sam and Dean dropped Alex off at the motel while they donned on their FBI suits and headed off to the crime scene. Alex flopped down on the bed, flipping on the tv. She found _Fairly Odd parents_ , and gladly watched it to get her mind off of her life. 

 

 **I** t was probably three or so hours later. Sam and Dean hadn't come back, and Alex was getting frustrated. "Cas," she whined. "You busy? I'm bored. And hungry. Can you grab some fries on your way here?" She added this last part with a smile, figuring she'd probably just be ignored. Then she rolled over, burying her head in the pillows.

"I don't understand why you like these." 

Alex jumped, looking over at Castiel. He was standing at her bedside, holding a fast food bag. Shocked, Alex took it. Inside were fries. "Seriously?" she gaped. 

Castiel seemed to shift nervously. "You asked for them," he quietly replied. 

In response, Alex jumped up and pulled him into a hug. "Castiel, you are amazing." 

Castiel let her hug him. "Thank you." He patiently waited for her to step back. "How are you?" 

Alex sat down on the bed. "Good. I hope I didn't bother you." 

"No. I was just sitting quietly in a park by myself."

"Oh. You enjoy that?" 

"I like to sit alone and contemplate things." Castiel looked around. "Why did you call me? Is something wrong?" 

"I uh . . . listen Cas. I've been thinking a bit about what you said. You know, when Dean was torturing Alistair." 

She wasn't sure, but she swore Castiel blushed, if only a little bit. But all he said was, "About what?" 

"You said you could read my mind. Can you do that right now, if you could? Would you need my permission?" 

Castiel stared at her. "I will always ask for permission," he promised, not understanding what she wanted. 

"No, I mean, could an angel read my mind without asking me?" 

"Yes." 

"How . . . how much of my mind could they read?" 

"As much as they wanted. Why?" 

Alex rubbed her eye with the palm of her hand. "Is there any way to keep angels from doing that?" 

Silence. Castiel tipped his head slightly, eyes narrowing in confusion. "Why?" 

"I . . . I don't know. I mean, I was just thinking. I, uh, I know things some angels would kill to get their hands on. And, uh, they definitely don't need to know those things. I mean, what if Uriel had read my mind and lived? Do you know what could have happened?" 

Castiel shook his head. His eyes locked with Alex's, and she felt herself flush slightly under the brilliant blue gaze. "I can erase those memories," he began, "but I know that is what neither of us want." 

"Neither of us?" Alex raised an eyebrow. 

"I still believe you will help us stop Lucifer." 

Alex shifted her gaze away from Castiel. 

He stepped forward. "I can ward your mind from angels, but you _will_ help us, won't you?" 

"Of course!" Alex stood up to equalize the height between them. "It's just, things are already in motion. The ball's rolling, and not even I may be able to stop it." 

"But you'll try." 

"I'll give my life." 

Castiel nodded in acceptance. "Hopefully that will not happen." He stepped closer to her, and his voice softened. "This may hurt. And I'm sorry." 

Alex nodded. "That's okay." She closed her eyes, waiting. 

Castiel didn't move. "Are you sure this is what you want?" When Alex nodded again, he added, "I'm going to have to go into your head for this. I'll try not to look, okay?" 

"Okay. Just make it quick." 

Castiel still didn't move. "You may want to lie down for this." 

Alex's gut twisted nervously. "Yeah, yeah. Sure." She did as he asked, lying stiffly down on the bed. 

Castiel sat next to her, and the bed dipped under his weight. "I'm sorry," he repeated, this time more softly. Then he placed his hand over her forehead. 

Alex almost screamed. A burning bright light penetrated her mind. The room spun, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her fists balled in the sheets. She thought she felt a hand cover hers, but it barely registered. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, and she almost swore that this was a dream, and that nothing here was real. Something rang through her mind, bringing on such a sudden, terrible headache Alex arched her back. Then, the light vanished, and Alex was brought back to reality. 

She lay there for several seconds, breathing heavily. 

"Alex?" Castiel's voice came from beside her, and Alex opened her eyes. He was still sitting next to her, but his hand was no longer on her forehead. 

"Hm?" Alex shied away from the bright florescent light. She squinted up at the angel. "How'd it go, doc?" 

Castiel didn't understand. "I built a wall around your memories. Nothing, angels or demons, should be able to get in without your permission." 

Alex sat up, and the headache returned. "Just my memories?"

"If I had encompassed your whole mind, the pain would have killed you instantly." 

"Oh. Thanks," she mumbled, forcing a smile. 

"I would recommend you rest for at least another few hours." Castiel stood up, and light in the room turned off. "Will you be okay alone?" 

"Yeah." Alex lay back down. "You should be going. You're already in pretty hot water with your superiors and all." 

"Actually, since Uriel . . . betrayed us, I have been reinstated as garrison leader." 

"Oh. Good for you."

"You need to sleep." Before Alex could protest he leaned down, pressing two fingers against her forehead. Alex immediately blacked out.

 

 **S** he woke up when Sam shook her into consciousness. She groaned and rolled over, her head still pounding. "Leave me alone," she grumbled. 

"Come on, princess, get up." 

"No." Alex crawled under the sheets, pulling them tight over her head. She relished in the comforting blackness. 

The bed dipped, and the sheets were tugged on. Alex refused to let go. Then, the sheets were lifted up, and Dean crawled under them next to her. "You okay?" he asked. 

Alex looked over at the hunter, amusement flickering in her eyes. But the headache quickly pushed it away. She just let out grunt, turning away.

"You sick?" Dean shifted so he could reach for her forehead. "You feel a little warm." He suddenly sat up, dislodging the sheets. 

"I have a headache," Alex admitted. She didn't feel like talking about why. "It should go away in a couple hours or two." 

In response, she was tossed a bottle of aspirin and bottle of water from Sam. "Bottom's up." 

Alex just rolled her eyes, but did as he asked. She popped the lid off of the bottle and swallowed three pills. Then she downed them with a large gulp of water. "Thanks," she mumbled. Her head still burned, and she fell back. "What'd you learn?" 

"Police says that our vic is Mary Dempsey, one of the missing teens." Sam tossed her the case folder, that was now filled with police reports and statements. "She was the second to disappear. The police are searching the lake for the other two." He pointed out the other two missing person reports; a 15 year old boy named Peter Stiller, and a 12 year old female Owen Anders.

"We talked with the owner of the property. He lives in a cabin on the south end of the lake," Dean added, pulling off his tie. He started unbuttoning his shirt. "He seems like a normal grandpa kind of person. I doubt it's him. Besides, someone could easily sneak onto the lake; apparently people camp up there all the time." 

"Hm." Alex looked down at the file. The words swam on the pages, and she shut it quickly. "Okay." 

Dean tossed his shirt onto the bed. "Yeah. We'll probably go back into town later tonight to see if anything new turned up. You want to come to the autopsy? You always enjoy that." 

Alex shook her head. "I think I'm just going to stay in tonight." 

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Dean shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, I suppose." 

 

 **T** hey spent the rest of the day in the motel. Alex mostly slept. She vaguely heard Sam and Dean leave at some point, but she didn't wake up. 

 

 **W** hen she woke up, it was dark. Sam and Dean were sitting at the kitchen table, deep in quiet conversation. Her headache had disappeared, and Alex felt hungry, having not eaten since lunch. She got up and walked over to the Winchesters. "Hey." 

Sam looked up. "Hey Pip. You feeling better?" 

Alex looked down at him. "Pip?" 

Dean smirked at Sam's nickname. "Yeah," he agreed, "you know. Someone who's a pain in the ass, but likable. Pip." 

"Also 'cause you're short," Sam added. "Pipsqueak short." 

Alex rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Pat yourselves on the back, guys." She glanced down at the table. "And yeah, I'm feeling better. Kind of hungry. What's up? Did you learn anything?" 

Sam shrugged. "Autopsy confirmed Mary's liver was missing. The police found the other's bodies. Autopsy will be in the morning. We couldn't get in to see them." 

"Ah." 

"And we brought you food." Dean handed her a styrofoam box. "Enjoy." He also handed her a paper plate that he must have brought in from the car. 

Alex looked into the box. It looked like Chinese. She dumped the contents onto the plate and stuck it in the microwave. Two minutes later, it was warm, and she sat down on the floor to eat, back leaning against the cupboards. "Dean. Fork?" 

Dean dug through the plastic bag and pulled out a plastic fork. He tossed it to her, and Alex caught it ungracefully. "Thanks," she mumbled. 

 

 **S** he managed to get a few more hours sleep that night, and woke up feeling fine. Sam and Dean were already gone, but left a note saying they'd gone down to the coroner's to see what they could learn about the two other missing bodies. 

Alex sighed and dug through Dean's duffle bag. She pulled out ten dollars and got dressed, pulling on one of Dean's jackets. She shoved the extra motel key in her pocket along with the money and her phone, and stepped outside. The air was already quite warm, and she quickly moved the items into her jean pocket and threw her jacket inside the room, where it landed on the floor. Then she walked down the street to find breakfast. 

 

 **W** hen she got back, there was no Impala parked in front of their room. Alex unlocked the door and stepped inside. The room was still empty, and her jacket was still laying there on the floor. Alex stepped over it, not bothering to pick it up. Sam would do it. She sat down on the bed, pulling out her phone. She dialed Dean's number, then flipped it close. They were probably busy. She pulled out her journal and started writing. 

 

 **I** t was almost lunch time when Sam and Dean came back. Both were frowning, and Alex looked up. "What's wrong?" 

"Pick up your fucking jacket," Sam growled. 

Alex frowned as well. "What happened?" 

Dean shook his head. "Sam's just in a pissy mood." 

"Sam's always in a pissy mood," Alex replied, shaking her head. "But something's wrong. What'd you guys find out?" 

"They found Peter and Owen. Autopsy confirmed their livers were missing too."

"Okay. That's good, right? That means this is definitely a case." 

"And it means three people are dead," Sam snapped. 

Alex ignored his bad temper. "And it means that now its something we can catch and kill so no one else will die," she replied patiently. "Seriously Sam. Lighten up." 

"Sorry." Sam heaved a sigh, turning back to his laptop. 

"Another kids's missing," Dean finally admitted. "A Shawn Grossman. Kid's only eight years old. He disappeared early this morning walking home from a sleepover. Mom called in a missing person's report, but the police won't look into it until he's been gone for at least a day." 

Alex mumbled in sympathy. "So we have to stop this pretty fast. I'll give Bobby a call." She walked over to her bed and grabbed her phone. She dialed Bobby's number and waited. 

"What do you want?" 

Alex snorted. "And a happy morning to you too, Bobby Singer." 

"Shut up and tell me what you want." 

Alex pouted, casting an amused glance at Dean. "Is everyone in a bad mood today?" 

"Alex . . ."

"Fine. We're on a case in Virginia. A couple kids have disappeared and found dead near a Misiton Lake. Their livers were missing." 

"Is that all you got?" 

"Sorry. It might not be enough . . ."

"Are you really calling to tell me this?" Bobby huffed. "It's obvious, isn't it?" 

"No, Bobby. It's not obvious. Care to enlighten me?" 

"Look in your journal. Carton hunted one of these last August, remember? Now, if you don't mind, I am very, very busy." Bobby hung up. 

Alex growled, then tossed her phone onto the other bed. "Journal, journal, journal," she mumbled, picking her's up off of the nightstand. 

"Did Bobby know what it is?" 

"Yeah. He didn't tell me. Apparently I wrote it down at some point . . . oh." Alex stopped flipping through pages. "Dammit. I'm so stupid." 

Dean walked over to her. "Mind sharing?" 

In response, Alex handed him her journal, open to one page. 

Dean studied it. "A Kappa?" 

"Yeah. That must be what Bobby meant." Alex watched as Dean handed her journal to Sam, who read her notes. 

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I'll look into it more, but I think this is what we're dealing with." 

"Okay. Now what about lunch?" 

Dean just rolled his eyes. 

 

 **T** hey drove across town to a diner. Alex brought her journal, and Sam his laptop. After they had ordered, Dean began. 

"Okay. So what do we know about a, uh, what the hell was that thing? Katta?" 

Alex slid her journal towards him. " _Kappa_. Japanese in origin, are sort of this . . . reptilian-turtle form. They have a water-filled indent in their head. They must keep it filled with water else they die. They hide it with a hat, but still reek of fish. They can disguise themselves as humans, but not the . . . bowl-head." 

Sam let out the faintest hint of a laugh. "She's right," he agreed. He turned his laptop towards them. On the screen was a picture of a kappa surrounded by a wall of text. "When did you learn about them?" 

"A hunter -- Carton -- he hunted one back in August. He called me and Bobby to figure out what it was. Apparently they're pretty rare." Alex paused, thoughtful. "I think it was on the East Coast, too. I'll call him later. Maybe he can help." She put away her journal as their food came out. 

Dean looked disdainfully down at her plate. "You got a salad?"

"I can't alway eat hamburgers," Alex said calmly, picking up her fork. "You're gonna get pudgy just eating that." 

Dean snorted, but said nothing. 

 

 **B** ack at the motel, Alex called Bobby and got Carton's number. Then she called the hunter. 

"Hello?" The voice was wary and unsure. 

"Hey. It's Alex. I worked with Bobby when you worked that kappa case last fall." 

"Alex? You know Bobby Singer?" 

"Yes. Come on, man. I worked the, uh, gougou case with you a few months back." She waited for Carton to make a noise in acknowledgment before continuing. "I'm with the Winchesters now. Have you heard of them?"

"Yeah. Why?" 

Alex sighed. Carton wasn't very talkative. "We're in Bent Mountain, Virginia. We think we're hunting a kappa at Misiton Lake. You're the only one I know whose hunted one of these before." 

There was a pause. "Did you say Bent Mountain?" 

"Yeah." 

"That's where the last one was." There was a pained grunt and the sound of a bed creaking. 

Alex frowned. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah. I'm fine." 

"You sure?" 

"Yeah." 

"Okay. If you say so. What can you tell us to help?" 

"Misiton Lake, you said?" When Alex agreed, Carton continued. "Is there a Fredrick Henson?" 

Alex looked over at Dean. "Dean. Does the name Fredrick Henson mean anything?" 

Dean frowned. "Nope, sorry." 

"Sorry," Alex repeated into the phone. 

"Okay. Never mind. The kappa will be in or near the lake. There was a small cave on the north side where the last one had kept its victims. I'd try there. They don't like sesame and --" 

"-- ginger." Alex finished. "Yeah. You kill them with iron, right?" 

"Correct. Good luck." Carton hung up.

Alex did the same. "Sesame and ginger and iron," she told the Winchesters. 

Sam nodded in concurrence. "What else?" 

"Carton said he hunted a kappa in the exact same lake. So maybe there were two?" 

"Or he didn't kill the first one," Dean suggested. He pulled a beer out of the fridge and leaned against the wall, eyes trained on her. 

Alex shook her head, but didn't argue. "Either way, there's a small cave on the north side of the lake. He suggested we check there, because that's where he said the kappa kept its victims."

"Let's go." Sam stood up, grabbing his jacket. 

"Now?" Alex frowned, starting to stand up. 

"Yeah." Sam turned back. "That kid needs our help." 

"We could wait for tonight?" Alex weakly suggested. "I mean, this kappa's eaten three kids in a week. He's probably quite full at the moment. And night would be easier to get in and out. The police may still be up there . . ." She trailed off, realizing she wasn't winning this one. "Okay. I, uh, it's probably better to get the kid now." 

Sam and Dean exchanged amused glances. "Thank you." 

They walked out to the car. 

 

 **I** t was half an hour drive up to Misiton Lake. Dean parked the car off of the road and took off down the path, an iron axe in one hand, a flashlight in the other. Sam followed, equally equipped. Alex walked alongside Sam, holding only a flashlight and an iron crowbar. They wound their way down to the lake, careful not to get to close to the water. As they wound along the northern shore, Alex kept her eyes trained on the woods, looking for any sign of a cave. 

"There." Sam gestured towards the thicket of trees. "Cave." He immediately stepped into the forest. Alex watched him. Try as he might, he was too large to walk quietly. 

Dean noticed too. "Sam." Dean paused him. "Let Alex go first. Alex. _Quietly_ see what you can find. We'll follow behind." 

"Dean!" 

Alex left them arguing. She slipped quietly into the forest. The pine-needle coated ground made walking silently easier, and she made good time. She approached the cave and flicked on her flashlight. "Clear," she called softly back, dipping her light into the blackness. She did _not_ want to go too far in there alone. When she heard Sam and Dean approach behind them, she started in, her light flickering across the damp stone walls. A soft ' _drip drip drip_ ' echoed of the walls, and puddles dotted the uneven ground. Footsteps and lights behind her told her the Winchesters were following. She slowed to let them take the lead. 

The cave split into two. Sam glanced at Dean, who nodded, a silent message passing between them. Then Sam went to the left, and Dean to the right. After a second's hesitation, an 'Alex!' sent Alex after Dean. 

She had only taken ten or so paces down the tunnel before an 'over here!' sent her running back. She hurried down the other tunnel, frowning as Dean easily overtook her. She slid to a stop on the slippery ground. Sam was kneeling beside an unconscious young boy. The child's face was pale, but he looked unharmed. 

Alex knelt down and placed two fingers on the boy's neck. "He's alive." 

"Yeah." Sam shone his flashlight farther down the tunnel. "Something took off down that way. That's when I found him." Sam stood, scooping the child up into his arms. "Let's get him out of here." He strode past Alex, who picked up Sam's axe and followed. Dean took up the rear. 

 

 **T** hey hurried back to the Impala. They got in, and Alex buckled the unconscious child in. Then Dean peeled out and took off towards town. 

When they arrived at the hospital, the boy had come into consciousness, but just barely. Sam carried him in, and Alex followed. 

"Can I get a doctor!" Sam yelled, bursting into the emergency room. Two doctors hurried towards them, rolling a bed towards them. Sam placed the child on it, and watched as they wheeled him away. "He's Shawn Grossman," Sam told the nurse. "We found him up by Misiton Lake." 

"Can I get a name, please?" 

"Agents Tyler and Perry." Alex glanced back to see Dean standing behind her, FBI badge in hand. "We're working on the murdered teens case. Actually, we should be going." Dean left, and Sam and Alex followed.

 

 **S** am barreled into the motel room, tossing his jacket on the bed. Alex followed, head tipped. "We're still gonna hunt this bitch down, right?" 

"Language," Dean warned. 

Alex rolled her eyes. "Whatever." 

"I'm serious. No unnecessary swearing." 

"Like you can talk." 

"My swearing is necessary." 

Alex just shook her head. "Whatever," she repeated. "We're still going to kill this thing, right?" 

"Of course." Sam pulled out his laptop, eyes narrowed. "Tonight." 

"Tonight," Dean agreed. He pulled off his jacket and shirt, then pulled a new one out of his bag. He pulled on a brown henley before sitting down next to Alex. She ran an eye over his attractive form before mentally cursing herself for thinking like that. She pushed the thoughts away with a push of disgust. Then she fell back on the bed, letting out a long sigh. 

 

 **N** othing happened for the rest of the day. Dean brought in dinner, and Sam never left his laptop. Finally, after dark, they got into the car and sped off towards Misiton Lake. 

Flashlights were flicked on, and iron weapons were handed out. Alex was still stuck with the crowbar, and she let out a wordless huff at her luck. Then she followed the hunters into the darkened forest. 

The lake was silent. Not a wave moved, not an insect buzzed. The only sound was their footsteps on the ground, and the occasional crack of a twig. Alex tightened her grip on her weapon; it was too quiet for her liking. Dean deftly maneuvered down through the woods until they reached the cave. "Here fishy fishy," he called. 

"It's not a fish," Alex muttered, rolling her eyes. There was no fucking way these guys were professionals. They entered the cave, and quickly came upon the split in the tunnels. Sam went one way, Dean and Alex the other. 

Alex followed Dean, eyes and ears alert. "Dammit." Dean turned the corner and stopped dead. "Dead end." 

Alex shared in his frustration, and they retraced their steps back to the other tunnel. "Sammy?" Dean called. 

No answer. 

"Sammy!" Dean took off down the tunnel. "Sam!" 

Alex followed as fast as she could, yet still unable to keep up with Dean. The air stunk of rotting fish, and she wrinkled her nose. Suddenly something hit her from behind. She roughly hit the rocky ground, the breath knocked out of her. She lay there, struggling to breathe. Something grabbed her legs, dragging her back. Alex took a deep breath. "Dean!" She began struggling furiously. Her foot was freed, and she lashed out, catching whatever it was. It let go, and Alex scrambled to her feet. In front of her was an man, hunched over slightly as not to hit his head on the roof. Alex backed up until her foot hit her flashlight. "Dean!" she yelled again over her shoulder. 

Still now answer. Alex frowned angrily. She picked up her flashlight, shining her light over the creature. The human face disappeared under the light, replaced by an ugly beaked reptilian. It snarled, the sound echoing off of the cave walls. It approached, and Alex cast a quick glance back. The crowbar was gone. She panicked, then a thought came to mind. The creature took another menacing step forward. 

Alex bowed. She folded her hands, bending over. Then she straightened back up. 

The creature stopped, staring. Then it bowed back. As it did, Alex noticed the strange indent in its head. Water spilled out, and the creature let out a sudden cry. It straightened up, then its eyes rolled into the back of its head. It collapsed, revealing a black shape behind it. Alex flashed her light over it, breathing a sigh of relief. It was Dean. The iron axe was imbedded in the kappa's back. 

Dean looked up at her. "What the hell was that?"

Alex squinted in confusion and offense. "What do you mean?"

"The whole bowing thing." Dean kicked at the creature at his feet. "You looked like an idiot."

"Look it up," Alex snorted. "That's how the Japanese would escape from Kappa all the time."

"Right," the older hunter grunted in disbelief. "Sam's okay, too, by the way." He wrenched the axe out of the creature's back. "You think it's the same one Carton hunted?" 

Alex shrugged. "I have no idea." 

"Well, we're taking no chances." Dean suddenly swung the axe downwards into the kappa's neck. It cracked, and a weak flow of blueish blood coated the ground. 

Alex only blinked. "Where's Sam?" 

"Up near the other tunnel." Dean watched as she walked away, letting out a long breath. Then he yanked the axe out of the creature's neck, winding up for another blow. 

 

 **A** lex saw Sam before he saw her. She stopped by him, leaning against the rocky wall. "You okay?" 

Sam glanced over at her. "Yeah. I'm fine. How about you?" 

Alex shrugged. "Dean's got good timing." 

"Where is he?" Sam looked down the way Alex had come.

"He's making sure the kappa's actually dead. He'll be back in less than a minute." As she spoke those words, Dean approached. He wordlessly handed Alex her crowbar, and they made their way back down to the car. The lake was as silent as ever, and the air was refreshingly cool, but none of them stopped to take it in. They just kept walking. 

 

 **T** he ride was silent. Alex lay in the backseat, a hand over her heart, feeling its pulse as she drifted into her thoughts. The road was empty, and the Impala's headlights illuminated the pavement ahead. "We should get out of town," Dean finally said. "I'm uh, I'm been thinking that that sheriff's starting to doubt our authenticity." 

Sam quickly agreed. "Yeah. Let's get the hell out of here." 

Dean pulled the Impala into the motel, and the three of them -- Alex with some protest -- quickly packed their things and hit the road. Dean pulled the car out of the motel parking lot, and the car squealed as it raced away. 

Alex propped her bag against the armrest, curling up in the backseat. She closed her eyes, and sleep pulled her into its comforting embrace.


	18. It's a Terrible Life

**T** he beeping of an alarm clock woke her up. Alex sat up, yawning. She glanced at the clock; it read 6:00. She rolled over, a loud groan rumbling through her.

There was a loud knock on her bedroom door a few minutes later. "Rise and shine, Alex." The door was thrown open, and light rushed into her room. 

"It's too early." Alex stumbled to her feet and walked out into the hallway. "Morning, Dean." 

"And good morning to you." Dean was wearing a pinstripe blue button down, a red tie and red suspenders. He went back into the spacious living room, walking over to the kitchen. _A Well Respected Man_ by the Kinks was playing, and Alex rolled her eyes. Dean poured himself the espresso he had made earlier, glancing back. "Don't give me that look," he told her playfully. 

Alex walked over to join him. "Rice milk?" she asked, picking up the container. "I still can't believe you drink that stuff."

Dean just shook his head, running a light hand through his slicked-back hair. "You don't expect me to stay in good shape without eating healthy." 

Alex rolled her eyes, smiling. "Whatever." She grabbed a bowl of Lucky Charms and walked over to the couch. She turned on Nickelodeon, settling down. Dean continued to tinker around behind her. Alex simply ignored him. 

At six thirty, Dean walked over to her. "I'm off to work." He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her forehead. 

Alex leaned back into him, smiling. "Okay. What are you having for lunch?" 

"Salad." 

Alex shook her head. "Health nut."

Dean chose to ignore that. "Remember to finish your school work," he reminded her as he pulled on his suit coat. 

"Okay." Alex put her empty bowl on the coffee table, watching Dean walk over to the door. "Don't stay out too late." 

"Yes, mom." Dean grabbed his car keys. "Same for you." 

Alex rolled her eyes, smiling. "I don't have a social life, Dean-o." 

At that, Dean frowned slightly. He shook it off. "I'll be home around six." 

"Okay." When he left, she turned back to the tv. 

 

**A** fter her show ended, she did the dishes then walked over to the kitchen table. She pulled out her math book and laptop and logged on to her online high school account. It only took her ten minutes to figure out her lesson, and then another ten to finish it. She slid her math book across the table and started on english. 

It was almost eleven before she finished all of her homework. She glanced at the clock and rolled her eyes, then reminded herself that she would still be in school if she actually went to one. She returned to the couch and turned on tv. 

 

**A** fter lunch, Dean called. "Alex?" 

"Hey, Dean. How's work?" 

"Good. How are you doing?" 

"Good. Finished my school work. I've just kind of been hanging out." 

She swore she could hear Dean frown. "Have you gone outside?" 

Alex curled her lip. "Why would I go out there?" she joked. 

"Go for a walk or something." 

"Yes, mom." Alex hung up. 

 

**S** he did as Dean suggested. _It wasn't like Dean was being overbearing_ , she told herself. _He just wants me to be healthy_. She had been adopted by Dean Smith several years ago, and was still ever grateful. He could be a little demanding at times, but that's just who he was: a natural born leader. That's how he had gotten his high ranking job at _Sandover Bridge & Iron Co_, one of the largest construction companies in Ohio. That was three weeks ago. 

She rounded the corner, lost in her thoughts. 

 

**D** ean didn't get home until six in the evening. He made dinner, and they sat down at the table. "How was work?" Alex asked, starting up conversation. She dug into the casserole. It was amazing as always, and she told him so.

"Thanks." Dean put down his fork. "Work was good. I, uh, I talked with Mrs. Caron." 

"Hm?" Mrs. Caron was the secretary for Dean's floor. "What's up with her?" 

"She's doing good." Dean looked up at her. "She's been looking for an intern to help out around the office." 

"Oh. Cool." 

"Yeah. You start tomorrow." 

Alex dropped her fork. "What?" 

"You heard me." Dean looked over at her. "You're eighteen, Alex. You need to start getting out into the world."

Alex frowned. "What about school?" 

"You'll have a few hours to do it at Sandover."

Alex knew she couldn't win. "Fine," she grumbled. "But don't expect me to wear a skirt." 

Dean just shook his head. The conversation died. 

 

**_T_ ** _he girl staggered closer. She stopped near the salt line, looking down at it. A large knife came into view, glinting in her left hand. She continued to stare down at the salt. Then she stepped over it._

_Alex was shocked. Ghosts can't cross salt lines._

_"I thought you said ghosts couldn't cross the circle!" a woman exclaimed._

_"They can't." Alex could tell Dean was doing his best to stay calm. "She's not a ghost."_

_"Shoot her!" a man yelled. "Shoot her!"_

_Alex whipped out her gun, flicking off the safety and cocking it. "Dean."_

_"What?" Dean stepped in front of the family, protecting them._

_"Should I shoot her?!" Alex snapped._

_The girl stepped forward. Then she charged at Alex, knife raised, a feral scream escaping her lips. Alex pulled the trigger._

 

**"G** et up!" Dean was knocking on her door. Alex snapped opened her eyes, her dream still fresh in her mind. She shook it off, got up, pulled on jeans and a nice plaid shirt, and braided her long blonde hair before stepping out into the main room. 

"Morning," she mumbled, stumbling towards the kitchen. 

"Yup." Dean was waring a light blue oxford with a darker tie. "Is that what you're wearing?" 

Alex looked down at her clothes. "Do I have anything better?" she finally asked. 

Dean's grunt told her she was right. She sat down at the table and ate breakfast. 

 

**I** t was a half an hour drive to the Sandover Bridge & Iron Co. building. Alex followed Dean up the elevator, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder. They stepped out on the correct floor. "Mrs. Caron." Dean smiled over at the secretary. "This is my daughter Alex." 

"Ah." Mrs. Caron smiled warmly. "It's good to meet you, Alex. I'll show you around." 

"Thank you." Alex watched Dean walk away, but refused to show her nervousness. She faked a smile. "Is there a place I can put my bag down?" 

"Yes. The break room is in here." Mrs. Caron lead Alex down the hall. "Is that your school things?" 

"Yeah. I do online school." 

"Hm. Well, you can leave your things in here. It's a very secure room. Now. We're mostly going to be having you do photocopying and filing around here. I'll show you how to work the copier." 

 

**I** t was five thirty before they left. They got into the crowded elevator, and Alex sighed. It headed towards the ground floor, then stopped. The door opened, and a man got in. He glanced at Dean, and Alex stopped. He looked familiar. Really familiar. He had long brown hair that stopped halfway down his neck, and greenish-hazel eyes. He caught her eye, and shot her a hesitant smile. When she continued to study him, he shifted nervously. Alex gave up. The elevator door opened again, and everyone except her, Dean, and the strange man got out. Alex stepped closer to Dean. 

The door closed, and, after a second's hesitation, the man turned to Dean. "Can I ask you a question?" 

"Look, man," Dean interrupted, "I told you. I'm not into the, uh . . ." 

"Oh, dude, come on. I'm not either. I just want to ask you a question." 

Dean looked around, then let out a breath. "Sure." 

"What do you think about ghosts?" 

"Ghosts?" Dean repeated. 

"Do you believe in them?"

"Uh, to tell you the truth, I've never really given it much thought." 

"Vampires?" 

Dean snorted. "What? Why?" 

"Because I've been having some weird dreams lately. You know what I mean?" 

"I had a weird dream last night," Alex piped up. 

Dean quieted her. "You always have weird dreams." 

"What was it about?" the man asked. 

"I had a dream me and Dean were hunting a ghost. But it wasn't a ghost 'cause it crossed this salt line or something. Then I shot it." 

Dean shook his head dismissively. "She always has nightmares . . ." he began.

The taller man studied her. "Have you had any other . . . weird dreams?" 

"Alright man." Dean cut him off. "Look. I don't know you, okay? But I'm gonna do you a public service and, uh, tell you that you -- you over-share." With that, Dean pushed a button, and the elevator door opened. Dean and Alex left.

 

**W** hen they got out to the car, Alex spoke up. "Who is that guy?" 

Dean glanced over the car at her. "You mean the tech support guy?" 

"Yeah. Does he look . . . familiar?" 

Dean got into the car, and Alex did the same. Dean returned his gaze to her. "He asked me the same thing yesterday. I'd never seen him before." 

"Hm. Okay." 

"Just, just forget about him. How was your day?" 

"Long." Alex slumped in the front seat of the silver Prius. "I don't like working. I'm not even getting paid!" 

Dean chuckled. "Welcome to the real world." 

 

**T** hey got back home around six. Alex collapsed on the couch as Dean started on dinner. "You want --" 

"Don't talk to me," Alex grumbled jokingly. 

Dean walked over to her. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" 

Alex didn't respond, and Dean grabbed onto her legs, pulling her towards him. "You know, you got to do this all over again tomorrow." 

Alex groaned, rolling off of the couch. 

Dean pulled her to her feet. "Come on. Come help me with dinner." 

Alex did as he asked. As they worked together, she thought about their relationship. They were very close, and she honestly wouldn't be surprised if someone on first glance thought they were dating. She blushed just thinking about it, but she couldn't deny that thought. There was nothing sexual between them, but they were always teasing each other, or laughing at each other's stupid jokes. They really didn't even flinch at the other's touch. Alex pushed away the thoughts. She would never date Dean. She'd date someone _like_ Dean, but definitely not Dean. 

"Alex?" 

"Sorry. What?" Alex turned her attention back to her father-figure. 

"I told you to go wash up. We'll be eating in a few minutes." 

"Yeah. Okay." 

 

**T** he next day, she got up early again, expecting another boring day. When they got there, Alex realized she had been wrong. They got there a few minutes late -- yes, it was Alex's fault. There were police cars outside, and Dean led the way into the building, frowning. Alex followed. On the third floor was a crowd. Dean pushed his way up to the front, and Alex followed. Suddenly Dean held out his hand, blocking her. 

"Dean," Alex complained. "Let me see." 

"Stay back there. What happened?" he asked the man next to him. 

"One of the tech guys -- Paul -- he, uh, he killed himself. Police say he put his head in the microwave and fried himself." 

Alex grimaced. Gross. She got a glance of a black body bag being wheeled out by several paramedics. They passed Alex and Dean, but Alex hardly noticed. Dean was staring across the room at the man from the elevator yesterday. They seemed to be silently communicating until Dean looked away. "Does something about this seem not right to you?" he asked a man in a suit next to him. 

The man looked down at Dean. "Yeah. Try the whole thing. I'm telling you man. I'm never going to eat popcorn again." 

"Yeah," Dean echoed. "Right." He turned around. "Come on. Let's go." He had to drag Alex into the elevator. "Sorry about that." 

Alex shrugged. "Whatever. It was kind of cool." 

"A man _died_." 

Alex dipped her head in apology and said nothing. 

 

**S** he worked for a few hours then decided to take a break. She told Mrs. Caron her plans, who readily agreed. Mrs. Caron was really nice. Alex stopped in Dean's office on her way to the break room.

"Two weeks?" Dean was muttering, studying his computer. 

"Two weeks what?" 

Dean jumped, looking up. "It's, uh, nothing. It's just, this guy who died, Paul Dunbar. He was retiring in two weeks. It seems like kind of a weird time to commit suicide." 

Alex plopped down in one of the chairs. "Yeah." She raised an eyebrow. "I bet it was ghosts." 

"Shut up."

"Or vampires." 

Dean ignored her, and Alex left. 

 

**S** he finished some of her homework, then gave up. She walked back towards the reception desk. 

"No no no. It's fine. It's fine," she heard Dean insist. She paused, listening. "I just need you to redo one today so I can get the show on the road with this invoicing." 

Alex heard a faint, "Oh my God." 

"No, it's fine. Just refile it and we're square." 

"I can't believe I did this. I can’t believe -- I can't believe I did this." 

Alex frowned, starting to think something was wrong. 

"Hey, guy, come on." 

"No, no. It, it affects profits. It -- I screwed up. I -- I can't -- I can't -- I am so sorry. I -- how could I do this? I failed Sandover. I failed the company." 

"All right. Why don't you sit down, Ian?" 

"No." Suddenly the door was flung open and a man ran out. Alex stood there, dumbfounded. 

"Ian?" Dean appeared. "Ian? Hey!" He took off after him.

Alex followed him at a distance, concerned. They disappeared into the men's bathroom, so Alex turned around to leave. She got halfway back to the reception desk when she heard Dean yell. "Somebody help me!" 

Alex spun around. She rushed into the men's bathroom, stopping cold. The man named Ian lay on the floor in a pool of blood. Dean kneeling over his body. He was blocking most of the body, but Alex was certain blood was still pouring out of his neck. Dean looked over at Alex, eyes wide. "Call the police," he whispered hoarsely. Alex nodded, hurrying out. 

 

**W** ithin half an hour, the bathroom was crowded with paramedics. "No, I followed him into the bathroom," Den was saying. "He was, uh -- he was standing in front of the mirror and then --" He looked past Alex and paused. 

She followed Dean's gaze, and came to rest on the stranger from the elevator. 

"Continue, sir," the officer told Dean. 

"And then he stabbed himself in the neck," Dean finished shakily. "I'm sorry. That's when, um . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head. 

When Alex looked back behind her, the man was gone. She frowned, and left the room. 

A few minutes later Dean found her. "My office. Now." 

Alex followed him in, shifting uncomfortably. She waited for him to start talking about what she had seen, but he said nothing. He sighed, then started unbuttoning his shirt. He tossed it onto his bag and pulled on a new one, buttoning it up absently. 

There was a knock on the door, and that one man entered. 

"Come in," Dean told him. "Close the door." When the man did, Dean continued. "Who the hell are you?" 

"I'm not sure I know," the man said slowly. 

"What the hell does that mean?" Alex knew Dean was starting to freak out. 

"Sam Wesson," the man said. "I started here three weeks ago." 

"All right. You cornered me in the elevator talking about ghosts and now . . ." Dean trailed off. 

"Dean," Alex began. 

"Be quiet, Alex." 

There was a pause. 

"Now, what?" Sam finally said. 

"Now nothing. I, uh . . . so you started here three weeks ago, huh?" When Sam nodded, Dean let out a breath. "Yeah. Me too." He unscrewed the cap of a clear water bottle that was filled with an pale opaque liquid. "It's the Master Cleanse," he explained. "You tried it? Phenomenal. Detoxes you like nobody's business." He took a sip. 

Alex was still studying Sam. He looked down at her. "Uh, yeah?" 

"You look really familiar. Have we met? I mean, before here?" 

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so." Alex frowned. Sam turned back to Dean. "When you were in that bathroom with Ian, did you see something?" 

"I don't know." Dean took another sip. "I don't know what I saw." 

"Wait. Are you saying that -- did you see a ghost?" 

"I was freaking out," Dean defended. "The guy penciled his damn neck." 

"You did, didn't you? Okay, listen. What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're something . . . not natural?" 

At that, something sparked in the back of Alex's mind. Something familiar. She reached back, digging. She found nothing, and let out a frustrated noise. What was she forgetting? It's like there was a wall there, blocking it. 

"So what, ghosts are real?" Dean's words broke her thoughts. "And they're responsible for all of the dead bodies around here? Is that what you're telling me?" He sat down, and Sam did the same in time with him. 

"I know it sounds crazy, but yes. That's what I'm telling you." 

"I agree with Sammy," Alex suddenly said. 

Both of the men looked over at her. "Sammy?" Dean finally said, voice taut.

Alex shook her head to clear it. "Sorry. Mr. Wesson. Not sure where that came from. I . . . " She trailed off confusedly. 

Dean turned back to Sam Wesson. "Ghosts? Based on what?" 

Sam sat quietly for a second, thinking. "Instinct," he finally said. 

Dean looked down at his head, shaking it slightly. "I've got the same instinct," he admitted slowly, looking back up. 

"Seriously?" Sam looked interested, almost happy. "You know those dreams I was telling you about? I was dreaming about ghosts." 

Alex walked over to sit on the desk next to Dean. "Me too," she said. "They're terrifying." 

"Yeah." Sam brushed her off. "And now there turns out to be a real ghost." 

"So you're telling me your dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychic?" 

"No. I mean, that would be nuts. I'm just saying something weird is definitely going on around here, right?" Sam dug into his messenger bag. "I've been digging around a little." He pulled several papers out of the bag and slid them over to Dean. "I think I found a connection between the two guys." 

Dean took the papers and studied them. He looked up at Sam. "You broke into their email accounts?"

"I . . . used some skills that I happen to have to satisfy my curiosity," Sam stumbled defensively. 

Alex let out a small laugh. He was witty, she'd give him that. 

Dean seemed slightly impressed. "Nice." 

"Yeah. Okay. So it turns out both Ian and Paul got this same email telling them to report to HR, room fourteen forty-four." 

Dean frowned. "HR's on seven."

"Exactly." 

"Should we go check this out?" 

"Like right now?" Sam's eyes lit up with barely disguised interest. 

Dean looked over at Alex. "No. No. It's getting late. You're right." 

"I am dying to check this out right now." 

Dean looked like he wanted to agree, but he looked back up at Alex. "No," he began. 

"Come on, Dean," Alex begged. "Please? I mean, come on! I real, live ghost? Seriously? There's no way in hell I'm gonna pass this up."

"Language," Dean warned sharply. 

Alex just glared before dipping her head apologetically. 

Sam watched them curiously. "Sorry. Are you two . . ?"

"I adopted her," Dean quickly explained, standing up. "And you're going to stay right here while Sam and I check this out." 

"Dean! Please? I'd be safer with three of us. I know things, Dean. I mean salt, and uh, iron." The word 'iron' was out of her mouth before she knew it, and she stopped, confused. "I mean, I've had dreams about hunting ghosts --" 

"And that's all they were. Dreams." 

"Sam!" Alex turned to the tech guy. 

Sam shrugged, having no say in the matter.

"It's Mr. Wesson." Dean's tone told Alex she was beaten. "You can either stay here, or I'll lock you in this room." 

Alex frowned angrily. "Fine," she hissed. "I'll stay here." She watched as Dean and Sam left the office, and Dean closed the door behind him. There was a click, and Alex jumped up. "Dean!" 

"I know you, Alex." Dean's voice came through the door. "I'm not taking any chances." 

Alex let out an angry breath. Footsteps walked off, and she sulked in the room. 

 

**N** o more than ten minutes later, both Sam and Dean came barreling into the room. "What happened?" Alex demanded. 

Dean didn't answer. He grabbed his bag and his keys. "Come on." 

Neither Sam nor Dean answered any of Alex's questions until they were in the car. Alex was bumped to the backseat, which she silently protested. Only when Dean had pulled out of the parking lot was she told what had occurred. 

He and Sam had gone up to room fourteen forty-four. They had heard a scream, and had rushed to the door to find it locked. Sam had apparently kicked it in, and they had found another man from tech support laying under a collapsed shelf. The monitors on the shelf had all been on, and Dean had been thrown backwards by a ghost that had suddenly appeared. The ghost had been an old man, the same man Dean admitted he had seen in the bathroom. Then Dean hit the ghost with a wrench, and the ghost had disappeared. 

When they finished the story, they had arrived at their apartment. As they walked up the stairs, and Dean let them in. Sam leaned against the couch, and Den paced back and forth, his Master Cleanse in hand. 

Finally Dean spoke. "Holy crap, dude." 

"Yeah. I could use a beer." 

Dean stopped pacing. "Oh, sorry, man. I'm on the cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house." 

“Most of the carbs,” Alex reminded. “And, yeah, it’s not been fun." Dean's glare silenced her. He walked into the kitchen. 

Sam frowned slightly. "Hey. How'd you know that wrench was going to work?" 

Dean walked back over and handed Sam a bottle of water. "Crazy right?"

Alex glanced at Dean. "Was the wrench iron?" she asked somewhat smugly. 

One again she was ignored. "And nice job kicking that door in," Dean continued. "That was very Jet Li. What are you, like a black belt or something?" 

"No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like . . . like we've done this before." 

"What do you mean, before? Like Shirley MacLaine before?" 

Sam shook his head. "No. I just can't shake this feeling like I -- like I don't belong here. You know? Like I should be doing something more than sit in a cubicle." 

"I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way," Dean said dryly. Alex let huffed in amusement. 

"No. Well, look, it's more than that. Like, I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name!" 

"It's better then Smith," Alex pointed out dryly. "Want to trade?" 

Once again, she was ignored. "I, I don't know how to explain it, except that . . . I feel like I should be doing something else. There's just something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different. What about you? You ever feel that way?" 

Alex agreed with Sam immediately. "I don't believe in destiny," Dean finally said. "But I do believe in dealing with what's right in front of us, though." 

Sam sighed. "All right, so what do we do now?" 

"We do what I do best, Sammy. Research." Dean stood up and walked towards the kitchen. 

"Okay. Did you just call me Sammy?" 

Dean stopped, confused. "Did I?" 

"I think you did. Yeah." Sam shared in Dean's confusion. Then he gave up. "Don't." 

"Sorry." Dean walked over to his desk in front of his workout machine. He sat down and powered up his laptop. 

Alex watched him. "You sure you're good at research?" she asked, joking only a little. "Maybe me and Mr. Wesson can help." 

Sam looked over at her. "You can call me Sam." 

"No you can't," Dean called from behind his screen. "Respect. Learn it." 

Alex wandered over to him. "I am respecting him. I'm respecting him by respecting what he wishes to be called." 

Dean glared at her with fake anger, and Alex smirked. "You win this one," he grumbled light-heartedly. Alex sat down beside him. She put her head on the table, letting out a long sigh. Dean put his hand on her head and pushed her away. 

Alex dramatically fell off of her chair, rolling on the floor. Remembering that Sam was here, she got up and walked over to the kitchen like nothing had happened. "Hungry?" she asked. 

Sam shook his head, following her. "No thanks. Do you even have any real food?" 

Alex sighed, turning her head to look at the tech guy. "Dean got rid of most the good food. But, uh, I kept some of it stashed away." She pulled out a box of Lucky Charms and shook it. The cereal rattled around. When Sam shook his head, she pulled out the milk and poured herself bowl. Then she sat down at the breakfast bar. "How's it going, Dean?" 

Sam was sitting at the table, laptop out. Alex frowned and took a bite of cereal. Then her frown deepened. She had left her bag at Sandover. Her bag with her laptop. She let out a huff off disappointment. 

 

**A** bout half an hour later Dean spoke. "Oh. Jackpot." 

"What?" Alex left her empty bowl on the island and walked over to him. 

Sam did the same. "What you got?" 

"I just found the best site ever. Real, actual ghost hunters.These guys are genius. Check it out." 

Alex shifted so she could see. Dean had a video open on a website titled, _Ghostfacers_. The name made Alex doubt their credibility. "Ghostfacers?" she asked. "Have we heard of them before? They sound really familiar." Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she knew them. She reached back, trying to place it, but came up empty.

Dean played the video, and Alex turned her attention to it. "We know why you're here," a man with curly brown hair insisted, pointing some metal antennae at them. 

"You've got a problem," his companion added. He adjusted the large glasses on his face. Alex was pretty sure they were fake. The glasses probably were too. 

"A ghost problem." 

"A ghost related problem," the second man added. "A ghost -- it's like a ghost-adjacent pr -- it's like a problem that's -- and the ghost is --"

The first, taller man cut off the second. "Whatever. You've come to the right place. The only decent place, really, because the Ghostfacers know how to solve it." 

"Period." 

"Watch and learn." 

"See, the first step in any supernatural fight:" 

"Figure out what you're up against," both exclaimed at the same time. Yellow letters appeared on the screen, and Alex rolled her eyes. 

Dean paused the video, looking up at Sam. He walked back over to his laptop. "I was looking into the history of the building," he explained. 

Dean pointed to the screen. "That's him. That's the ghost." 

Sam nodded. "P. T. Sandover. Died in 1916. Devoted his life to his work. No wife, no kids." 

Alex hurried over and saw the webpage Sam had up. An old man was off to the left, and next to the picture was a paragraph. The words 'Room 1444' caught her eye, and she began to read. 

'Office 1444 was considered to be the center of the company's operation, with Sandover himself  
overseeing any details of any construction project the company overtook. Considered to be a  
difficult person to work for, P. T. Sandover had an exceptionally high standard of quality, often  
marching onto construction sites and halting all work until he personally inspected each aspect of  
the structure. Aiming for perfection is perhaps why the Sandover legacy is so impressive,  
dominating the industry with the scale and scope of its projects.' 

"Used to say he was the company," said Sam, "and his very blood pumped through the building."

"Wow, okay. So slightly workaholic. Maybe he's still here, you know, watching over the company, even killing for it." 

"Plus, it turns out this isn't the first time people started killing themselves in the building. 1929." 

"Yeah, but lots of guys jumped off lots of high rises that year," Dean reminded him, and Alex recalled that that was during the Great Depression. 

Sam looked up at Dean. "How many companies had seventeen suicides?" 

"Oh. Okay, so, P. T. Sandover, protector of the company. His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress." 

Sam shrugged. "Well, I mean, the worse time we've seen since the Great Depression --" 

"Is now," Dean finished, nodding. "Yeah, now sucks. My portfolio's in the sewer. I don't even want to talk about it." 

"So Sandover's helping the bottom line --" 

" -- by zapping some model employees." 

"Yeah, I mean, Ian and Paul. It's like he turned them into different people." 

"Perfect worker bees, exactly. So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed." 

Alex finally piped up. "All of the vics were tech supports, weren't they? That must mean something. Like, his M.O. or something." 

Sam looked up at her. "Vics?" 

Dean rolled his eyes. "She's been watching too many crime shows." 

Alex frowned. Had she picked up that from a show? She backed up. What was she forgetting? There _was_ something back there. What was it? She wanted to scream in frustration. 

"Alex?" 

Alex looked over at Dean. "Sorry." 

"There's one more interesting fact. The building wasn't always this high." Sam clicked on another open tab. "Used to be fourteen floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, room fourteen forty-four. Once upon the time, that was the old man's office." 

Dean let out a grunt, and walked back over to his desk, and restarted the video. Alex and Sam followed. 

"One you got the thing in your sights," the curly haired man said, "You kill it!" both exclaimed in unison. "Using special ghost-hunting weapons," the first man added. 

"First, salt. It's like acid to ghosts." At those words, both Sam and Dean looked at Alex. She shrugged, blushing slightly.

"Burn-y acid." 

"Not LSD." 

"No. It's a bad trip for ghosts. Next up, iron." 

This time, Sam and Dean looked at each other, and Alex shifted uneasily. Okay, so she had been right. 

"That's why the wrench worked," Sam said quietly. "She was right." 

"Pure power in your hand," the second man was saying. 

"Dissipates ghosts instantly," the first added. 

"Next trick. We learned this from those useless douchebags --" 

"That we hate," the curly haired man added. 

"The Winchesters," the second agreed, adjusting his fake glasses. 

For some reason, Alex took offense. "They can't be that bad," she said quietly.

"Huh?" 

"Nothing. Just, uh, Winchesters. Sounds really familiar." This was starting to badly annoy Alex. 

"Shotgun shell." Alex missed part of the dialogue, and turned back to the video. "Pack it up with fresh rock salt." 

"Very effective," the first added. 

"Very effective," the second echoed. 

"Winchesters suck ass, though." 

"Affirmative. Suckage major." 

Dean paused the video. 

Alex spoke up. "We have those iron pokers by the fireplace." When Dean nodded, she walked over there. "Get the duffle bags in the closet," Dean added. 

Alex ran up the stairs and over to the hall closet. She pulled out a black duffle bag and ran back. She tossed the bag to Dean before returning to get the pokers. Sam was rifling through the pantry, and came back with a large container of salt, as well as all of their salt shakers. 

Dean shoved it all into the bag. Then he zipped it up and looked at Sam. "Where do we even get a gun?" he asked. 

"Gun store?" Sam tried. 

"Isn't there some kind of a waiting period or something?" 

"I think so." 

"Then how in the hell --" 

"I know. Seem's pretty impossible, honestly." 

"Right." 

"So, uh," Alex began. "How exactly do we kill a ghost?" Something deep inside her mind sparked. "I think it involves fire? Are ghosts scared of fire?" 

Dean and Sam shrugged. They walked back over to his laptop and sat down. Sam did the same. Alex followed, leaning against Dean's shoulder. He clicked the 'play' button, and the Ghostfacer's video started up.

The second, shorter man with the false glasses started talking. "The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douche-nozzles also taught us one other thing. You have to burn the remains."

Dean paused the video. "Have you seen this before?" 

Alex shook her head. "No." 

"Then how do you know this?" 

"I . . . I just do." Alex scratched her head in pure confusion. "I -- something isn't right. There's something in my mind I can't reach. Something important." She looked up, scared. "What am I forgetting?" She took a step back. "I, I don't even know if this is real! Who the hell am I?" She stepped back again, starting to seriously freak out. 

"Alex. Calm down." Dean stood up, hands held out non-threateningly. "Deep breaths, okay?" His voice softened. "You're Alex Smith, remember? You're eighteen years old, you live with me. You're my daughter." 

"Am I?" Alex's voice shook. The more she kept digging in the back of her mind, the more she knew something was wrong. 

Suddenly Dean stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug. Alex relaxed under his touch, and she let out a shaky breath. 

"She's right." Sam said quietly. "Something isn't right." 

Dean just shook his head. "Come on. It doesn't matter. We've got a job to do, okay? Let's focus on this first." 

Alex nodded, swallowing thickly. "Yeah, yeah. You're right." Like always. She watched as the two men walked back to their chairs. She followed, and Dean restarted the video once again. 

"Okay. This next part gets a little gross," the first man began. "Sometimes you might have to dig up the body. Sorry." 

"It's illegal in some states," the second added. 

"All states," the first corrected. 

"Possibly all states." 

"Sandover was cremated," Sam said quietly. 

"What? So what do we know now?" Dean looked over at Sam, but refused to make eye contact with Alex. 

"Now," the video continued, "if the deceased has been cremated --" 

"Don't panic." The second man finished the first's sentence, making a large gesture. 

Don't panic," the second repeated. 

"Just gotta look for other remains." 

"A hair in a locket, maybe. Fingernails. Baby teeth." 

"Milk teeth." 

"Genetic material. You know what we're talking about." 

"Go find it." 

"Fight well, young lions." 

"Godspeed." 

The video ended. Dean sighed and closed the tab. "We should go. Stop this thing tonight before it kills again." 

Alex nodded. "Yeah. Good plan." She walked over to the door and slipped on her shoes before grabbing the duffle bag. "When do we leave?" Dean stood up, and Alex recognized that face. "Dean . . ." 

"No. You are not coming with. No. Nonnegotiable." 

"Dean!" Alex dropped the duffle bag and crossed her arms. "Why not? I know things. I can help!" 

"We know everything we need to. We just watched the video --" 

"Dean!" Alex voice rose in frustration. "Please! I want to help. People are dying." 

"I think she should come," Sam said quietly. 

Dean spun around. "You don't have a say," he spat. "This is my daughter and I don't want her risking her life hunting down ghosts! You've seen what it can do." 

Sam flinched. "I just feel like it would be safer with three of us instead of just two." 

"What if she _dies?!_ " 

"I won't die!" Alex felt her anger starting to boil over. "Dammit! Something isn't right, okay? There -- there's something in the back of my head that's telling that all of this is wrong. And this is the only thing that feels right." 

"You're not going, and that's final!" Dean stepped towards her menacingly. "I will personally handcuff you to your bed, do you hear me?" 

"I'm eighteen. I'm an adult --" 

"You're still under my roof. Dammit Alex, what am I going to do if I lose you?" 

"And what am I going to do if _you_ don't come back? What happens if you die? How am I going to keep living if you die and I know I could have stopped it?" 

Dean's eyes softened. "And what if you die?" he asked quietly. "How will I live?" 

"Please, Dean. You, you have family. If I die, you'll have them. If you die, where do I go? I have no one. Please. Let me come." 

Dean looked over at Sam, who had been standing their uncomfortably. Sam nodded, and Dean closed his eyes. He sighed. "Fine. Fine. But you're not to get involved in any direct confrontation, you understand?" 

Alex nodded. "Yeah. I get it." 

"Fine. Let's go." Dean led the way out of the apartment. Alex turned off the lights, glancing back into the room. Then she shut the door. 

 

**H** alf an hour later, they were walking through the halls. Dean led the way into room 1444. He walked through the room, flashlight dancing over the shelves. He disappeared down one isle, and Sam started rifling through the things in the middle. Alex worked with him, not really sure what she was doing. 

"What the hell are you doing?" 

Sam and Alex jumped. Dean ducked down out of sight. A flashlight shone on her face, and Alex squinted to see the guard standing behind it. 

"Nothing," Sam insisted, putting what he was studying back on the shelf. "I just --" 

"Come with me." The guard stepped in and grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him out of the room. Alex stood there, dumbfounded, until a hand grabbed hers and yanked her after them. 

"Man, listen," Sam began, "it's okay. I -- we work here." 

Alex hurriedly voiced her agreement. 

The guard shook his head. "Tell it to the cops." 

Alex glanced behind her, looking for any sign that Dean would help them. She saw nothing. They rounded the corner and stepped into the elevator. It hummed to life and began to descend. Alex nervously glanced up at Sam. His composure remained one of false indifference. Alex focused her attention on the monitor on the wall, studying tomorrow's weather. 

Suddenly, the screen flickered into static. Alex shivered. Then she realized she had shivered because it was _cold_. She let out a breath, watching the condensation hang in the air. She looked up at Sam; he had noticed it to. Her mind knew exactly what it was: ghost. The elevator screeched to a grinding halt, and Alex shifted closer to Sam Wesson. 

The guard grumbled obscenities under his breath. He used his card to open the doors. They were stuck in between two floors; there was enough room for one to crawl up into the upper level. The guard struggled to open the second set out outer doors, and, with a final grunt, pulled them open. "Well, come on." 

There was a creaking sound, and Alex hesitated. 

Sam shared in her unwillingness. "What?" 

"Last time this happened, it took two hours for them to get here." The guard started to pull himself up and out of the elevator. 

"Let's just wait." 

The guard didn't listen. He crawled out. Sam recoiled as a boot almost caught itself on his face. The guard turned back to Sam expectantly. 

"Seriously. I'll wait." 

The guard leaned back into the elevator. "Look. I don't have the rest of my life," he said impatiently. The elevator jerked downwards. Blood sprayed Alex and Sam, and Alex screwed her eyes closed as the guard's decapitated head landed on the ground near their feet. Red hot fear shot up her spine, and Alex forced herself to breath as her chest tightened with fear. She wanted to scream, but couldn’t find her voice. 

No one said anything for a while. Then Sam's phone rang. He answered it. After a second's pause, he spoke. "Call you back." He hung up and looked over at Alex. "You okay?" 

Alex nodded. "I'm fine," she said, her voice slightly hoarse. The elevator continued to descend before stopping on the third floor. The door opened, and Alex glanced up at Sam. He hesitantly stepped out. Alex followed at a faster pace, not giving the elevator doors any chance to close on her. 

Sam led her up the stairs to his cubicle. He slipped into a room and came back with two small towels. Alex immediately began toweling off her face. 

Sam pulled out his phone. "Dean, you there?" A pause. "Okay, yeah, Just, uh, take the stairs." He hung up. "Floor twenty two. Dean's got something." 

Alex let out a long breath. "That's nineteen flights of stairs." 

"Then we should probably start moving."

 

**S** am quickly outpaced Alex, who had fallen behind. She was panting, and looked up the stairwell to see how much father she had to go. She rolled her eyes. Sam was already two floors ahead of her. "Come on," he called down. 

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Alex picked up her pace. When she reached floor twenty two, Sam was already heading down the hall. She hurried after him as he rounded the corner.

"Whoa," she heard Dean's voice. "That's a lot of -- Alex!" Panic filled the man's voice.

"She's okay," Sam said quietly. Alex rounded the corner. 

Dean's eyes grew wide at the sight of her, and he walked over to her. He pulled her into a tight hug. "You okay?" 

Alex nodded. "I'm fine," she promised. "It's, it's not mine." 

"I see that." Dean walked back over to the display case he had been standing by. "Like I said. You shouldn't have come." Then he pointed into the glass case. "Look. P. T. Sandover's gloves." 

"Yeah. How much you want to bet that there's a smidgen of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair or two?" 

"Or skin," Alex suggested. "That'd have more DNA than fingernails." She walked over to them as Dean dropped the duffle bag. 

"So you ready?" Sam asked Dean. 

"I have no idea." 

"Me neither." 

Dean handed one of the iron pokers to Sam, and a container of salt to Alex. She immediately began pouring it on the floor. 

Dean stopped her. "What are you doing?" 

Alex looked up at him, now confused herself. "I don't know," she admitted. "A salt circle? Ghosts can't cross that." 

Sam studied her. "Yeah, yeah, I think you're right." 

Alex continued what she was doing. 

"Go for it," Sam said. 

"Okay." There was the sound of shattering glass, and suddenly the room felt cold. 

"Dammit," Alex cursed. "You're suppose to wait till I'm done." She stood up to face Dean, only to see him being thrown across the room. She turned back, and her blood froze. An old, grayish man stood there, one hand outstretched. Electricity sparked from his finger, reaching for her. Alex froze. Suddenly the ghost dissipated, and salt grains hit her blood-soaked shirt and pants. Alex looked over at Sam, who was holding a salt container. "Thanks." 

"Hm." Sam picked up iron poker he had dropped. Dean got up and hurried toward them. "Dean!" Sam tossed the poker at Dean. "Behind you!" 

Dean caught it and spun. The iron cut through the apparition like butter. 

"Nice catch," Sam said, surprised. 

Dean grinned. "I know, right?" 

Alex hurried towards the case, grabbing the pair of gloves. She dropped them as she was thrown backwards. Her head hit the wall, and her vision swam. She saw Sam and Dean, iron pokers in hand, back to back, dispelling the ghost. She struggled back to her feet, staggering over to them. 

Sam and Dean reached the gloves when suddenly, both of them were thrown to the ground. Sam hit his head on the display case and slumped to the floor. Dean tried to get to his feet, but the ghost appeared in front of him, blue sparks jumping from his fingers. 

Alex ran. She crossed the room in two steps. She dove for the duffle bag, pulling out a lighter. Then she grabbed the gloves. Sam crawled over to her as Alex tried to light the lighter. He grabbed it from her, and, with one quick flick, flames leapt onto the gloves. The ghost turned angrily. Then it exploded into fire. Alex hurried over to Dean, ignoring the pain in her head. He was laying on the floor, breathing heavily. "You okay?" she asked. 

He nodded, standing up. 

Sam shook his head, getting up as well. "That was amazing," he finally said. 

"Right?" Dean was grinning. "I -- yeah." He cleared his voice and looked over Alex. "Come on. First aid kit's in my office." They packed up and he led the way down the stairs. 

 

**D** ean flicked on the lights, stepping in to his office. He hurried over to his desk and pulled out a white container. "Man, I got to tell you," he began. "I've never had so much fun in my life." 

"Me neither." 

"You're both insane," Alex joked, sitting down on the desk. But they were right. Her adrenaline was pumping, and she felt like she could run a mile. 

"Was a hell of a workout, too, wasn't it?" Dean added.

Sam nodded. "We should keep doing it." 

"I know." Dean dug through the medicine kit and pulled out several gauze pads. He handed on to Sam, who placed it over a cut above his eye. 

"I mean it. There's gotta be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people." 

"Right. We'd be like the Ghostfacers," Dean joked, not taking Sam seriously. 

"No, really. I mean, for real." 

That made Dean look up, a small frown forming on his face. "What? Like quit our jobs and hit the road?" 

"Exactly." 

Dean looked over at Alex, who shrugged. "Could be cool," she admitted. 

Dean frowned. "How would we live?" 

"Uh . . ." Sam looked confused. 

"You're kidding me. How would we get by? With stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner foods drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?"

"That's just all details," Sam started. 

"Devil's in the details," Alex pointed out. "And how do I know you won't kill me in my sleep?" she added jokingly. 

Dean turned to her. "You won't be going." 

"What! Dean!" 

"No. None -- none of us are going." 

"Um, all right. Confession." 

Alex turned her attention to Sam. "What?" 

"Remember those dreams I told you with the ghosts?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I was fighting them." 

Dean blinked. "Okay." 

"With you. We were these, hunters, and we were friends. More like brothers, really. And, and Alex was there too, kind of. I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling people's brains. What if it scrambled ours?"

Alex squeezed her eyes shut. What was wrong? What was wrong? Sam and Dean. Sam. And. Dean. Winchester. Winchester. "Winchester." 

"What?" Dean looked over at her.

Alex looked up. "Sam and Dean Winchester. Brothers. Hunters." Her eyes met Sam's. Everything was making sense. "That's -- that's --" It was gone. Dammit. 

"What?" 

"I, I don't know." Alex clenched her fists frustratedly. "I, I -- what am I forgetting?"

"Look. Maybe she's right," Sam told Dean. "All I know is this isn't who we're suppose to be."

"That's insane." Dean stood up, shaking his head. "I mean -- no. No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father is Bobby, my mother is Ellen. I have a sister named Jo, and Alex is my daughter. I adopted her two years ago." 

"When was the last time you talked to your family?" Sam persisted. "Any of them?" 

"Okay. What are you saying? Are you trying to say my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on." 

"All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know -- I know that deep down inside, you got to be feeling it too. We're suppose to be something else. You're not some corporate douchebag. This isn't you. I know you." 

"Sam's -- I think Sam's right," Alex agreed quietly. "I feel it, too." 

Dean let out a long breath. "I think you should leave," he finally said. 

Sam left. 

"Dean . . ." 

"We're going home." 

 

**A** nd that's where they went. That night, Alex dreamed of two hunters named Sam and Dean. There were monsters, and demons, images quick and fleeting. Werewolves, demons, humans, hunters, names and faces. There was one face she knew she recognized. A blue-eyed angel in a trench coat. 

She woke up with the face in mind. "Castiel." 

"Huh?" Dean rolled over to face her. 

"What?" Alex looked around. She must have crawled into Dean's bed at some point. 

"You said, 'Castiel'." 

"Castiel." Alex repeated the name, familiar on her tongue. "He's an angel." 

Dean snorted. "Just because he's cute doesn't mean he's an angel." He got up out of bed. 

Alex sat up. "No. I mean, a real angel. With wings and a -- trench coat?" She trailed off confusedly. "Sorry." 

"Must have been one hell of a dream. Come on. We're leaving in half an hour." 

 

**W** ork was impossible to focus on. Alex spent the whole time in some sort of a daze, not really doing much of anything. A man walked into Dean's office, and Alex froze. She tore down the hall, skidding into Dean's office. The man was sitting on the corner of the desk, talking to Dean. Both looked up when Alex entered. 

Alex stared into the man's face. 

"Alex," Dean started uncertainly. "This is Mr. Ad --" 

"I know you." The words were out of her mouth before Alex could stop herself. "How do I -- oh." Something in her mind snapped. The last piece of the puzzle fell into place. "Oh." 

The man approached, holding out a hand. "Mr. Adler." 

"No. Zachariah." Alex refused to shake his hand. 

"Alex," Dean warned. 

"No." Alex glared up at the man. "I -- the hell do you think you're doing?" 

"Alex!" Dean stood up angrily. "Be quiet!" 

"No, no. It's fine." Mr. Adler held out a hand to stop Dean. "She remembers. Now, tell me." His voice lowered so only Alex could hear. "What's going on in your head? I couldn't get in. There's a wall in the way, and not even I can break through. I actually had to take the time to build a second wall around that one to keep those memories in." 

"What the hell do you want?" Alex spat. The memories were pouring back now. Zachariah. Angel. Douchebag. 

"This had nothing to do with you. Now, if you don't mind, I wish to finish talking with Dean." 

Alex balled her fists, but acquiesced, knowing it wasn't smart to pick a fight with an angel. 

Zachariah walked over to Dean, who sat back down at the desk. "You look a little tired. Been working hard, I gather." 

Dean glanced at Alex, who was still staring at the angel defiantly. "Yeah," he mumbled, embarrassed at his daughter's behavior. 

"Ah. Don't be modest. I hear everything. And I'm pleased with what I'm hearing." He sat down in one of the chairs. "That's why it's important to me that you're happy." He reached over the desk for a pen and paper, and scribbled something down. He showed it to Dean. "How's that for a bonus?" 

Dean seemed quite surprised. "That's very generous," he said slowly. 

"Purely selfish." Zachariah put down the paper. "Wanna make sure you're not going anywhere." 

"Wow. Are you sure?" 

"Positive. You're real Sandover material, son. Real go getter. Carving your own way." 

"Well, thanks. I try." 

"Yes, I suppose you do. I see big things in your future. Maybe even senior VP, Eastern Great Lakes Division. Don't get me wrong; you'll have to work for it. Seven days a week, lunch at your desk, but in eight to ten short years, that could be you." 

Dean took off his headset. "Um, well, thank you. Thank you, sir. It's, um . . . but . . ." He slid the paper back over to Zachariah. "I'm turning in my notice." 

"This is a joke. You're kidding me, right?" Zachariah seemed genuinely surprised. 

"No. I've -- I recently -- uh, very recently realized that I have some other work to do. It's, uh, very important to me." 

"Other work?" Zachariah frowned. "Another company? We can give you more; more enough to put Alex through college." 

Dean's determined gaze faltered as he looked over at Alex. She shook her head. He still seemed torn, but turned back to Zachariah. 

"No. It's, uh, hard to explain. Um, it's just that this -- this is -- it's just, this isn't who I'm suppose to be." 

Zachariah grinned. 

"What?" Dean looked from Alex to his boss. 

"Dean, Dean, Dean. Finally." Zachariah stood up, reached forward and lightly pressed two fingers against Dean's forehead. The atmosphere changed immediately. 

Dean looked around wildly. "What the hell?" He looked down. "Why am I wearing a tie? My god, I'm hungry." 

Zachariah laughed. Alex pursed her lips angrily. 

"Welcome back," the angel chuckled. 

Dean stood up, casting a quick glance at Alex. "Wait. Did I -- did I just get touched by -- you're an angel, aren't you?" 

"He's Zachariah," Alex growled, crossing her arms. 

Zachariah nodded. "Very good," he praised her. "How'd you know?" 

Alex shook her head. 

Dean groaned. "Oh great. That's all I need is another one of you guys." 

"I'm hardly another one," Zachariah informed him. "I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down in one of these things," he motioned to the person he was wearing, "but after the unfortunate incident with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row." 

"I'm not one of your ducks," Dean snapped. 

"Starting with your attitude." He glanced back at Alex. " _Both_ of yours." 

"Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of a lesson? Is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative."

Zachariah smirked. "You should see my decoupage." 

"Gross. No thank you. So what? I'm just hallucinating all this? Is that it?" 

The angel shook his head. "Not at all. Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle of it without the benefit of your memories." 

Alex tipped her head. "Are you a seraphim?" she asked. "Or just a normal angel?" 

"Alex," Dean snapped angrily. 

Zachariah turned to face her. "I'm a seraphim," he nodded. "How did you know?" 

Alex shrugged. "Castiel must have mentioned it," she said, feigning confusion. "Yeah, that's probably it." 

"So why'd you do this?" Dean changed the subject. "Just to shake things up? Hm? So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?" 

"To prove to you the path you're one is truly in your blood," Zachariah snapped. "You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it. You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time, and you're miserable without it. Dean, let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it." 

"Stop what?" Dean snapped back. "The apocalypse, huh? Lucifer? What? Be specific, man." 

"You'll do everything you are destined to do. All of it. But I know, I know. You're not strong enough. None of you are," he added, casting a glance at Alex. "You're scared. You got daddy issues. You can't do it. Right?" 

Dean balled his fists. "Angel or not, I will stab you in the face," he warned. 

"All I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most people live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things." 

Dean just turned away. 

Zachariah continued. "Save people, maybe even the world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with woman. This isn't a curse. It's a gift. So for God's sake, Dean, quit whining about it. Look around. There are plenty of fates worse than yours. So are you with me? You want to go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?" 

 

**A** lex blinked. The angel was gone. Dean cursed, turning back to Alex. She shrugged, letting out a long breath. "Damn angel," she muttered. Then she looked up. "We should go find Sam." 

As she spoke, the door burst open. "Dean!" 

"Sam." Dean glanced at his brother. 

"What the hell?" Sam looked wildly around. 

Dean huffed. "Angels." 

Sam frowned. "What?" 

"Some douchebag angel put us here without or memories. A, uh, test or something." Dean stormed out of the room. "If he's hurt my Baby," he warned. 

Alex cast an amused glance up at Sam. She was ignored, and trailed after the Winchesters. 

 

**D** ean hurried out to where he had parked the Toyota this morning. He stopped, relieved, as he saw the Impala in its place. "Come on," he grumbled. "Let's get the hell out of here."


	19. Social Diseases

**F** or the next two weeks, Sam had them chasing cases all across the country. A possible werewolf case in Sacramento. That quickly turned out to a mountain lion. Possible ghost case outside of Atlanta. That was quickly disproved. 

 

 **July 21st, 2009**

**Manchester, New Hampshire**

**T** hey traced a rougarou in New Hampshire. Three people dead, partially eaten. They actually were going to talk to one of the victims friends when it happened. The door was open, and they went in. Alex went off to the left, Dean went to the left, and Sam headed upstairs.

Alex found herself in the living room. Everything looked normal. She rubbed her finger over the grips of her handgun, looking around nervously. Then she heard a small shout of alarm, and she booked it into the kitchen. 

There was Dean. He was staring down at a man, who was kneeling over another man. Dean was trying to light his torch, but for some reason, the lighter wouldn't light. The rougarou stood up, fingers tightening on the handle of a butcher's knife. 

On instinct, Alex raised her gun and fired. Her aim was dead on, and the crack of the fracturing skull could be faintly heard over the boom of the gun. The rougarou crumpled to the ground, dead. Alex frowned. That shouldn't have happened. It should have distracted him, not killed him.

"I know." 

Alex looked over at Dean. Had she said that out loud? 

"What was that?" Sam tore into the room. He stopped, looking down at the two bodies. "What the hell?" 

"I don't think that was a rougarou." Dean frowned. He rolled the dead man over with his foot. "Gunshots don't kill those sons of bitches." 

"So he was human?" Alex looked disgusted and horrified. "Oh my God he's a freaking cannibal." She looked down at the gutted man. "He-He doesn't even cook them? That's disgusting and totally unhealthy." She looked up at Dean, eyes wide. "You can get sick eating raw meat." 

Dean glared up at her. "Wow. Way to focus on the important things." He stood up. "Well, do we leave them?" 

Alex left Sam and Dean to discuss clean up. She walked around the kitchen, then, grabbing a dish towel, opened the fridge. "Fuck." She felt sick. 

"What?" 

Alex let the fridge door fall open. A severed head sat there, as well as several other body parts in bags and jars. "This -- This is sick." 

There was a thump. Alex literally jumped, eyes wide. "What was that?"

Both Sam and Dean stood up, whipping out their guns. Neither spoke, but somehow, they knew exactly what each other was thinking. Sam raised his eyebrows. Dean shrugged. Then he pointed towards the floor. Sam nodded, and they snuck out of the room. 

Alex followed. The Winchesters stopped beside a door, and the brothers once more exchanged looks. Then, Sam opened the door. The stairs disappeared into dizzying darkness. Sam pulled out his flashlight and stepped down the stairs, and Dean followed. Alex felt for a light switch, but there was nothing. She reluctantly followed, pulling out her flashlight as well. 

They reached the bottom of the stairs. Alex swung her flashlight about and actually screamed. White, hot terror tore through her body, and she thought she would faint. A body hung from the ceiling by its ankles. It was almost cut in half, the large gash stopping halfway down its ribs. The head was gone. Dean was at her side immediately, and then the whole room was lit in a harsh glow. 

As Alex came back to her senses, she realized Sam had found the light switch. Part of her wished the lights were back off. She turned into Dean, squeezing her eyes shut. 

The whole room was awful. Alex had only seen it for a second, but the image was burned in her mind forever. Bodies lay off to one side, all in different states of dissection. Off to the right, however, was what looked like a living space. 

"You okay?" Dean rubbed her back. 

Alex nodded. She forced herself to turn back to the scene. It was only a little less terrifying the second time. _It's just like at Bobby's,_ she told herself. _Just like an autopsy. You've seen dead bodies before. No big deal_. She shivered nonetheless. Most of the bodies were headless; in the corner the heads lay in a pile. Some bodies were dismembered, with only torsos remaining. Others still had limbs, but their stomachs were split open. 

Alex forced herself not to run. "T-There aren't this many people missing, r-right? H-How did he get all of them?" 

She felt Dean's hand on her shoulder. "I don't know." 

"Fuck. This -- that's just sick." 

Alex turned to Sam, glad to turn her attention to something else. She approached, then forced herself not to vomit. She trembled. "Oh God." 

Sam was standing in the middle of the living space. His face was pale with shock. Alex had never seen him that way. But she could understand why. Sam was staring at a lamp. But it wasn't a lamp. Not really. The lampshade was made of human skin. Alex felt bile rise in her throat as she recognized a human ear. 

Dean stepped up behind her, and she rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans before reaching out to take his hand. Dean didn't say anything. The horrors didn't end there. There was a skin chair, as well as an apron made of faces. Against the far wall sat a large trunk lined with human skin.

"Look at this." Sam pointed to a piece of paper nailed to the wall next to the apron. His lips twisted in distain and confusion. 

"Can we not?" Alex looked towards the stairs. "I'd rather leave." 

"I'm good with that." Dean beelined for the stairs. Alex hurried after him, and Sam followed, turning off the lights.

 

 **O** nce outside, Alex sank to the grass next to the car, shaking uncontrollably. Then she threw up. Twice. Oh God. That was disgusting. She looked up to see Sam and Dean leaning against the car, watching her. "What?" she snapped crossly. "That was fucking disgusting." 

Sam nodded, but Dean frowned. "Language," he warned. 

Alex ignored him. "I don't do zombies, and I certainly don't like cannibals." She looked up at Sam. "Sorry. What were you saying before I so rudely interrupted you about getting the hell out?" 

Sam snorted in amusement. "It's nothing. On the wall, there was a picture of a skin apron, but it was a different one." He shrugged. "Nothing important."

"So there were two?" Now that Alex was out in the open sunlight, she was admittedly a bit more curious. 

"Maybe." Sam shrugged. "Let's get a drink first." He pulled open the passenger side door. 

Dean grunted in agreement. "I'll call the cops later." He turned to walk around to the other side of the Impala. Alex followed. 

 

 **I** t was early in the evening. All three of them were sitting at a darkened table at a nearby bar. Sam had his laptop out, a half-finished beer at his side. Actually, it was his third beer, but no one was counting. "Hey. Look at this." 

Alex, who was sitting next to him on Dean's laptop, leaned over, then blinked. "What?" 

Dean must have overheard, because he excused himself from the chick he was taking to and walked over to his brother. He leaned on Sam's shoulder, looking at the screen. "Isn't that what we saw in that basement--?"

"Yeah. But it wasn't the same one." Sam clicked on a different tab. "This one was, uh, made by Ed Gein."

Alex immediately pulled up a fresh tab, and typed _Ed Gein_ into the search bar. She was immediately confronted by a lot of images. "God." She winced. "That's exactly what we saw at the house." She looked over at Sam. "So, let me get this straight. This guy was some sort of Ed Gein wannabe?" She wrinkled her nose. "Dude, that's even worse." 

"Yeah, I guess, except Gein wasn't a cannibal."

"Great. So its more like Ed Gein meets Armin Meiwes." Alex shuddered. 

Sam nodded. "In fact, he only killed two woman. The rest of the bodies came from graves he exhumed." 

"That explains why no one reported any of those guys missing." Dean walked over to the bar, ordered two more beers. He came back and handed one to Alex. She eagerly took it, opened it, and took several large gulps, ignoring the bitter taste. Damn, she needed it. 

"Look. The lamp, the chair, the necklace of tongues--"

"There was a tongue necklace?" Alex threw back her chair, standing up. "Fuck this, I'm out. I'm going back to the motel." She slammed the laptop closed and slid out of the booth. "Where's the key?" She held out her hand, looking pointedly at Sam. 

"Get Dean's." Sam looked over at his brother, who had already returned to the chick. "I doubt he's going back to the motel tonight." 

Alex grumbled obscenities under her breath, but walked over to Dean. "Hey." She leaned against the table next to him. "I need a ride back to the motel. And the keys to our room, preferably." 

"Hold on." Dean politely excused himself from the woman once again, turning to Alex. "Can't you just walk back? It's like ten blocks."

"It's seven o'clock, it's almost dark, and honestly, this is a pretty sketchy part of town. And coming from a hunter, that's saying something." She left unsaid the entire 'I'm entirely creeped out by the cannibalistic psychopath' part. 

Dean let out an amused noise. "You'll be fine." He fished the motel key out of his pocket. "And if someone tries to kidnap you, call for your angel boyfriend." He laughed at his own joke, then dropped the key in her hand.

Alex resisted the temptation to kick him in the kneecap. She stalked back to the table where Sam was, grabbing her beer. "If I get kidnapped, don't wait up," she grumbled before stalking back away. She heard Sam laugh. 

 

 **O** ut on the street, the sun was just starting to set. However, the streets were already dark. "Fuck this." Alex shoved her hands in her jean pockets. One came out to feel her left back pocket. She frowned, remembering that she had left her gun back at the motel. With an added curse, she started down the sidewalk. 

"Dammit." Alex kicked a rock into the gutter. She didn't want to walk home alone. Not only was this neighborhood totally sketchy, but she had spent the afternoon in a cannibal-slash-wacky-pyscho-killer's basement. Great. There went her nerves.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she jumped when she brushed shoulders with someone. She looked up. "Sorry." 

The man looked down at her, letting out a crooked smile. "No problem, sweetheart." Alex started to go, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "What's your name?" 

Alex pointedly brushed his hand off. "Fuck off." She stalked away, taking a long swig of her beer. 

 

 **T** he hair on the back of her neck had been standing on end ever since she had bumped into that man. She had refused to look behind her, but, after five minutes, she turned. Her fingers balled into fists. There were three men following her. Alex turned a corner. They followed. She turned again. Yet still they followed. 

Alex circled around the block. When she didn't lose them, she shakily reached for her phone. She called Dean's number. It rang, rang, and rang again, but it went to voicemail. She tried Sam's number, but with the same results. 

Now Alex was in a slight panic. By this point, she had finished most of her beer, and had now reached the end of a busy street. She turned down a darkened alley. "Well fuck," she muttered aloud. The street was long, dark, and the shortest way to the motel. She paused, looking behind her. Those three men stood there. 

Alex had had enough. "The hell do you want?" she yelled. 

They didn't answer. 

Alex frowned. "Christo!" 

Nothing happened. 

"Well, at least you're not demons!" Alex cupped her hands by her mouth, shouting at her stalkers. Then she turned and walked away, lengthening her stride. "Cas?" She looked up at the sky. "Castiel? Please get your ass down here!" Nothing. "Please?" Alex looked around. "Any non-douchy angel? Fuck, Gabriel, I'd take you right about now." 

"What do you want?" 

Alex turned at the gravelly voice. "Cas." She let out a breath of relief. 

The trench-coated angel tipped his head. "You were calling for Gabriel?" Even in the dim light, Alex could see the frown twisting his lips downwards. 

The young woman blushed. "Those three men have been following me," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder. They were approaching quickly, now seeing Castiel with her. 

"Have they hurt you?" Castiel's blue eyes flashed in concern. 

"I'm scared," Alex admitted. "I-I don't know if they're going to kidnap me or rape me or rob me or whatever. But they've been following me since the bar." She swallowed down the rest of the alcoholic beverage, tossing the bottle near a dumpster. 

The men approached, and Castiel stepped forward. Alex pressed herself into the brick wall next to the angel. He growled. "Go." 

The leader stopped about fifteen feet away, his white teeth glinting in a cruel smile. "Fuck off." 

"Or what?" The angel's voice took on a dangerous tone. 

"Or we'll make you." A large knife gleamed in the three mens' hands, and Alex swallowed nervously. Now she was really glad that Castiel had showed up. 

Castiel didn't react. The next moment, lighting flashed. Behind him, the shadows of large, dark wings were cast on the brick walls. They flared up angrily. 

Knives clattered on the ground as the three men turned tail and ran. The lightning faded, and Castiel watched them run. 

Alex stepped up to Castiel, grinning in relief. "You should do that more often," she commented breezily. She awkwardly reached up, feeling the back of his shoulders. There was no trace of wings. Huh. "Thanks." She patted his shoulder amiably, turning to walk down the street. 

"You're welcome." 

Alex stopped, eyes closing. She took a deep breath. "Cas? C-Can you stay with me for a while?" 

She felt Castiel approached, and he stopped a foot behind her. "Why?" His voice contained only curiosity.

"I, uh, I had a bad day." Alex glanced over her shoulder at the angel. "Honestly, it's been terrible." She turned her entire body to face Castiel. "Please stay until Sam comes back." Castiel blinked, and Alex blushed. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "You're probably busy. And I forgot your superiors and whatnot don't like you hanging around us so much." 

Castiel tipped his head, gaze unblinking. "It's fine," he promised. "I can stay as long as you need."

Alex smiled in relief. "Thanks." She started back down the alleyway. "It's only another block down."

Castiel lengthened his stride to catch up to her. "Why was your day so bad?" he asked. "Was it because of those men?" 

"Nah." Alex shook her head. "I just didn't have my gun on me. Otherwise I could have taken care of them." She sighed. "We, uh, we -- it's nothing. We thought we were hunting a rougarou, but it turned out to be a cannibal that ate live people and dug up the dead ones to make . . . stuff. Like, lamps and chairs." Alex shuddered as the memories returned. In all honesty, she hadn't been able to get them out of her head. But in the dark, they caused her blood to freeze in fear. She felt her heart speed up. 

Castiel noticed too. "That sounds unpleasant." 

Alex nodded. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I-I don't want to be alone." Despite the warm July air, Alex shivered.

The angel nodded in sympathy, if not understanding. "I can stay as long as you need." Seeing how the young human shivered, he shrugged off his trench coat, offering it to Alex. 

She took it, wordlessly thanking him. It was heavy, but warm, and offered the allusion of comfort. She wrapped it tightly around her. It smelled like Castiel. As she thought about it, she wondered if it was how -- what was his name? Something Novak -- how Cas' vessel smelled. It was nice. 

They walked the rest of the way in silence. 

 

 **T** he motel's fridge was stocked with beer. Alex pulled out a cold one, the day's memories too strong. She cracked it open and sat down at the table. 

Castiel stood against the wall, watching her. "How many of those have you had?" he asked as Alex quickly downed half the bottle. 

"Not enough." Alex wiped her chin with the back of her hand, not even looking up. "I, I can't sleep. I can't keep thinking about what I saw . . ." She shuddered, the hot pulse of terror running up her spine. "I'm terrified." 

Castiel obviously couldn't empathize. "And the drink helps," he stated instead. 

"Yeah. At least a little bit." Alex took another sip, ignoring the bitter taste as it went down. She shrugged off the trench coat and held it out. 

Castiel approached, taking back his coat. He sat down across from her, lips twisting into a frown. "I could . . ." He shook the thought off. 

Alex took another sip. "I, uh, thanks for staying. I don't know what I'd do if I were alone." She let out a snaky laugh. "I'd probably die of fear." 

Castiel's frown deepened into confusion. "I don't think that's possible." 

Alex looked the angel straight in the eyes. "It's possible," she said with complete seriousness. 

Castiel stepped even closer. "Your heart is beating really fast." He sounded worried. "Is there anything you need?" 

Alex glanced over at the bed. "I . . . can you make me sleep? No dreams, no nightmares, nothing until tomorrow morning?" 

Castiel nodded. "Yes." 

Alex let out a weak grin. "Great. Let's do it." She swallowed down the rest of her beer -- her forth one by now, but no one's counting -- and stood up. She unstably made her way over to the bed and lay down. Immediately the panic overtook her, and she reached out for Castiel. Her fingers wrapped around the fabric of his trench coat, pulling him down . He sat down beside her, placing his hand on her forehead. Alex reached up to stop him. "Cas? Don't leave until Sam gets back. Please?" 

The angel nodded. "Promise." Then he touched her forehead. Alex immediately fell into unconsciousness. 

 

 **W** hen she woke, the room was light. Alex winced away, letting out a loud groan. "Morning, princess." Dean's loud voice rang through her head, and Alex rolled away from his voice. "Feeling a little hungover?"

"Fuck off." Alex felt the bed dip under Dean's weight, and her stomach twisted. 

His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she groaned again. "I was thinking about going to get breakfast," he suggested lightly. "How does a greasy pulled pork sandwich sound?" 

Alex felt bile rising in her throat, and she lashed out weakly with her legs, catching Dean in the hips.

He barely even reacted. "That's what you get for downing four beers. You probably slept like a baby." 

At that, Alex raised her head, looking over at Sam. He didn't look her way, and Alex rolled out of bed. "Fuck off," she huffed again, stumbling towards the bathroom. 

Dean watched her go with an amused grin.


	20. The Monster at the End of the Book

**August 4th, 2009**

**D** ean parked the car, looking back at Alex. "You coming in?"

"May as well. What are we thinking?"

"Sounds paranormal. Vengeful spirit, maybe." Sa rifled through the glove compartment, handing her a fake ID. "Here. Don't show it unless they're suspicious."

"Thanks." Alex took it, putting it her jacket pocket. While both the Winchesters were dressed in their typical FBI ties and coats, Alex was still wearing her everyday clothes. She opened the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk. They were parked outside a comic book shop. Bobby had referred them here after seeing several news suspicious articles. She waited for Sam and Dean to take the lead before entering the shop. Both Sam and Dean headed for the man who was standing behind the counter.

"Um, can I help you?" the man asked, looking rather bored.

"Sure hope so." Dean pulled out his ID, and Sam followed suit. "Agents DeYoung and Shaw. Just need to ask you a few questions."

"She with you?" The man looked at Alex.

"Agent Phillips." Alex flashed her ID.

"You ain't dressed like your friends here."

"Undercover."

"Aren't you a little young to be FBI?" he persisted.

Alex felt her patience wearing thin. "Sir, I assure you, I meet all of the qualifications."

"Anyways," Dean directed the man's attention back to him, "We just need to ask you a few questions."

"Notice anything strange in the building the last couple of days?" Sam asked.

"Like what?"

Alex wandered farther into the store, looking around.

"Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights."

"Uh, I don't think so. Why?"

"What about noises?" Sam persisted. "Any skittering in the walls, kind of like rats?"

"And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?"

"It may be much more than that." Alex said seriously. "Now, please. Answer the questions."

"What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drop in temperatures?"

Suddenly the man behind the counter grinned. "I knew it!" he exclaimed, "You guys are LARPing, aren't you?"

Alex's head swiveled.

"Excuse me?" Dean looked confused.

"You're fans."

"Fans of what?" Sam glanced over at Alex, noticing a expression of realization on her face.

"What is LARPing?" Dean added.

"Like you don't know," the man laughed. Seeing their confused faces, he explained. "Live Action Role Playing. And pretty hardcore, too."

"I'm sorry. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Alex?" Sam looked over at her. "You know what's going on?"

The girl grinned. "It's very, very possible."

"You're asking questions like the building's haunted. Like those guys from the books. What were they called?"

" _Supernatural_?" Alex guessed.

"Yeah. _Supernatural._ Two guys, using fake ID's with rock aliases, hunt down ghost demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh, Steve and Dirk? Sal and Dane?"

"Sam and Dean?" Dean suggested.

"That's it!"

"Are you saying this is a book?"

"Books," the man corrected. "It's a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following." He stepped out from behind the counter and walked farther into the store. Sam and Dean followed. He stopped by a large bin filled with books. It was labeled, 'Bargain Bin.' He rifled through it. "Let's see. Uh, yeah." He pulled out a book. "That's the first one, I think."

Dean took it. "Supernatural. By Carver Edlund." He turned it over and read the back cover aloud. "Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures her men to their deaths."

"Let me see that." Sam took the book from Dean. After looking it over, he looked up at the man. "We're going to need all the copies of _Supernatural_ you've got."

The man nodded, hurrying off into the back of the store.

"Now our lives are books as well?" Dean turned to Alex.

"Yeah. Personally, I think the tv show is the best. But the books might be good too." Alex shrugged.

"Okay. We've got to find this Carver Edlund." Sam opened to the first page of his book.

"Saving people, hunting things. The family business," Alex said randomly.

"Excuse me?" Dean looked down at her.

"Oh. That's a line from the show. It's probably in the book too. You said it."

"Yes, I know I said it."

"You also said, 'Dad went on a hunting trip--."

"--and hasn't been home in a few days." Sam finished, reading off a page. "It's all right here. Everything."

The man came back with a stack of books. "This is everything we have." He dropped them all on the front desk. Alex picked up one. _Mystery Spot_. She vaguely heard Dean buy all the books, and quickly realized they were leaving. She hurried out to the car.

Sam and Dean put all the books into the backseat with Alex. She picked up the first one, flipping through it. Dean started the car, driving off towards their motel. She read aloud, "Driver picks the music--"

"--shotgun shuts his cakehole," both she and Dean finished.

"I like that rule. Good car rule," Alex stated.

"Thank you. And it's still a car rule."

Alex chuckled. "Good."

Dean didn't reply, but quickly drove off.

 

 **T** hey pulled into their motel a few minutes later. Alex helped carry in the books. She dumped them on the bed. Dean grabbed one and started to read, while Sam sat at the kitchen table, laptop out. Alex did a quick inventory of the books they had. Alex picked _Mystery Spot_ up again and resumed reading. If she remembered it correctly, she really loved this episode.

 

About an hour later, Dean put down the book he had read: _Route 666_. "This is freakin insane!" he exclaimed. "How's this guy know all this stuff?"

"You got me." Sam looked up from his laptop. "Alex?"

"Hm. Not sure enough to share my thoughts yet." She looked up from her book. "Sorry."

Sam just rolled his eyes.

"It's not possible. Everything is in here. I mean, everything. From the racist truck to-to me having sex. I'm full frontal in here, dude." Alex made no comment, studying her book. She heard Dean stand, and she looked up to see him walk over to Sam. She followed. "How come we've never heard of them before?" Dean asked.

"They're pretty obscure," Sam answered. "I mean, almost zero circulation. Uh, started up in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen books before going out of business." Alex leaned over Sam's shoulder, studying the webpage. "And, uh, the last one, _No Rest for the Wicked_ \--"

"That's the one where Dean goes to Hell." Alex broke in.

"Yeah, exactly." Sam turned the laptop so Dean could see the screen as well.

"I reiterate. Freaking insane."

"Ooh. Big words," Alex joked. Neither reacted, and she rolled her eyes.

Dean leaned over, scrolling through the web page. "They're actually fans?" He asked. "I mean, there's not a lot, but have you read some of this stuff?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam nodded.

"Man. For fans, they sure do complain a lot." Dean shifted as Alex squeezed in between him, reading.

"Listen. Simpatico says, 'the demon storyline is trite, cliche, and overall craptastic." She chuckled.

"Yeah, well screw you Simpatico," Dean grumbled. "We lived it."

"Yeah, well, keep reading. It gets better."

"There are 'Sam' girls and 'Dean' girls? And--what a 'slash fan'?" Dean looked up to see a grin on Alex's face. "What?"

"As in, Sam slash Dean." Sam explained. "Like, together." He glanced to his right, lip pulled up into the faintest hint of disgust.

"Like, together together?" Dean looked from Alex to Sam.

"Yeah," Sam grimaced, and Alex couldn't hold back a smile.

"They do know we're brothers, right?"

"Doesn't seem to matter." Sam seemed uncomfortable. Dean shut the laptop, disgusted.

Dean looked up at Alex. "Well, you don't seem shocked," he pointed out dryly.

"Nah. I'm use to this." She walked back over to the bed. "And by the way, they call it Wincest. In case you were wondering." She heard both Sam and Dean make a sickening noise, and she bit back a snicker. “You gotta admit that’s clever.”

"That, that is just disgusting."

Alex laughed out loud. "I've got a whole lot more of stuff like that." She tapped her head for emphasis. "For any time I have to knock you down a peg or two."

Neither Sam nor Dean responded, but Alex could tell she had won.

"Okay. We have to go find this Carver Edlund," Dean decided.

"It might not be that easy," Sam pointed out.

"Why not?"

"No tax records, no known address; looks like 'Carver Edlund' is a pen name."

"Uh, yeah." Alex looked over at him. "Already knew that."

"Oh, okay. Thanks for telling us." Dean shot her a glance. "Then what's his real name?"

"Hm. Not totally sure. It's Chuck something. I know his first name is Chuck, because Chuck is cool. Last name? Not really sure."

"Well, that's something to go on," Sam grumbled.

"Come on. Someone's got to know who this guy is." Dean stood up.

"Well, we could try the publishing agency." Sam suggested. "It's called Flying Wiccan Press. Located in south Baltimore."

"Three hours out," Dean informed them, leaning back in his chair.

"When we leaving?" Alex jumped onto the bed, disrupting the books that were on it. She ignored them.

"Right now." Dean stood up, grabbing his jacket. "Pack your things." He quickly threw all of his stuff into his duffle bag. Alex rolled her eyes, but obediently did as he asked. She also put the books in her bag, wanting to keep them. She'd read them in the car.

 

**Baltimore, Maryland**

**T** hey arrived in Baltimore by late afternoon. Alex took up her usual spot of walking behind Sam and Dean. She followed them into to a small office where a woman was sitting, flipping through a stack of papers. She was young with brown hair, though her bangs were dyed blonde. When the approached, she stood up. "Are you the reporters?" she asked. Alex decided she didn't like her.

"Uh, yeah," Sam answered. "So you published the _Supernatural_ books?"

"Yep. Yeah, oh gosh," the lady nodded. "These books -- you know, they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read is that romance crap. You know, _Dr. Sexy MD_?"

"That's a book?" Alex could barely hide her disgust. "And I thought it was bad enough as a show."

The woman nodded in agreement. "I know!"

"Right." Sam stopped Alex from responding. "Well, we're hoping our article can, shine a light on an under appreciated series."

"Yeah, yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press than m-maybe we could start publishing again." The woman looked up at Sam, hopefully.

"No, no," Dean said immediately. "No, no. God no." Alex held in a smile, looking over at the older hunter. "I mean why--why would you want to do that?" Dean quickly covered his tracks. "You know it's, uh, such a complete series, what with Dean going to Hell and all."

The woman's face immediately became much more emotional, and Alex inwardly rolled her eyes. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, placing a hand on her chest. "That was one of my favorite ones because Dean was so . . . strong . . . and sad and brave."

Alex looked over to see Dean's expression. She grinned at the sight.

"And Sam," the woman continued. "I mean, the best parts are when they'd cry." Alex bit back a snicker. "You know, like in 'Heart' where Sam had to kill Madison, the first girl since Jess he really loved. And in 'Home', where Dean had to call John and ask him for help." Her eyes started to water, and she looked away. "Gosh. If only real men were as open and in touch with their feelings."

"Real men?" Dean glanced at Sam, and then over at Alex. She grinned, and Sam nudged her harshly.

"No offense." The woman quickly backtracked. "But how often do you cry like that, hmm?"

"Well, right now I'm crying on the inside," Dean replied dryly.

"He cries when he gets a paper cut," Alex added helpfully. Dean shot her a glare, and she laughed. "But I love the books. I really do." She glanced at the two brothers. "Who do you like more? Sam or Dean?"

"Gosh, I don't know." The publisher looked absolutely torn. "I mean, Dean is so strong, but Sam . . ."

"I like Dean." Alex stated simply. "Sammy's a little too dysfunctional for my taste."

Sam kicked her, and the publisher looked throughly offended. "He is _not_ dysfunctional!" she exclaimed. "He's a sweet, brave man."

"Of course he is," Alex said smoothly. "I mean, I'm sure he's great fun on a good day."

"Why are you here?" the woman asked. "Aren't you a little young?"

"Well, I don't actually work for the paper. But when I heard about this story, I had to come along," Alex explained. "I mean, I _love_ the books. Wouldn't it be so cool if they were made into a show?"

"Yes"!" The woman nodded her head vigorously. "That would be amazing. But how do I know you guys are legit?" Her brown eyes darkened with guarded curiosity.

"Oh, trust me." Dean nodded. "We're legit."

"Well, I don't want any smart ass article making fun of my boys."

"Oh, no no," Sam stammered." Never."

" No, that's--"

"They're actually huge fans too," Alex said above them.

"Hmm." The publisher studied Sam and Dean. "You read the books?"

"Cover to cover," Dean promised.

"Umm-hmm," Sam agreed.

The woman narrowed her eyes. "What's the year and model of the car?"

"It's a 1967 Chevy Impala," Dean answered smugly.

"What's May 2nd?"

"That's my--uh, Sam's birthday."

"January 24th is Dean's." Dean added.

"And January 19th is Alex's." Alex put in. She was ignored.

"What was Sam's score on the LSAT?"

Sam looked over at Dean, completely at a loss. "Uh, one . . . seventy four?"

"Dean's favorite song?"

"It's a tie. Between Zep's 'Ramble On' and 'Traveling Riverside Blues'."

"Okay, okay." The publisher seemed satisfied. "What do you want to know?"

"What's Carver Edlund's real name?"

"Oh, no." The woman shook her head. "I can't do that."

"It's Chuck something, isn't it?" Alex tipped her head to one side. "I met him once. Can't remember his last name though." The woman shook her head defiantly.

"Listen," Sam tried, "We just want to talk to him. You know, get the _Supernatural_ story in his own words."

"He's very private. Like Salinger."

"Please. Like I said, we're big, big fans." He slowly unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, revealing the anti-possession symbol tattooed on his chest. "Big fans." He nudged Dean, who rolled his eyes, but reluctantly revealed his tattoo as well.

The woman licked her lips, and Alex glanced up at the ceiling. "Awesome," the woman told them. "You know what?" She started to turn around, starting to lift up her skirt. Alex immediately studied her shoes. "I've got one too," she heard the lady say. She glanced over at Sam's shoes. _Look,_ she thought, distracting herself,  _he has shoes too. Good for him. Wow they're big._

"Whoa," Dean spoke. "You are a fan."

Alex heard the sound of a pencil on paper, and deemed it safe enough to look up. The woman handed a piece of paper to Sam. "His name is Chuck Shurley, and he's a genius. So don't piss him off."

"Shurley. Right." Alex mumbled it under her breath.

"Uh, yeah. Okay. Thanks." Sam nodded his thanks, and immediately turned to leave. Alex hurriedly followed.

When they exited the building, Sam finally spoke. "Dysfunctional?"

Alex laughed. "Don't get me wrong." She bumped shoulders with the moose of a man. "You're okay, but you're a little on the crazy side."

Sam pointedly changed the subject. "So. It looks like this Chuck fellow lives only about an hour from here," he informed them.

"Let's go." Dean got into the Impala, and Alex followed suit.

 

 **T** hey pulled up to the address they were given. Alex studied the house. It was old and rundown. She cocked an eyebrow in confusion, but said nothing.

"Come on." Dean got out, pocketed the keys, and led the way up to the house. Sam followed, and Alex trailed behind. They climbed the front steps, looking nervously around. Dean paused, exchanging a glance with Sam, then rung the doorbell.

A few seconds later, a man answered the door. Alex recognized him immediately. Brown curly hair, ragged striped bathrobe, tired appearance. Definitely Chuck Shurley.

"Are you Chuck Shurley?" Dean asked.

"Maybe. Why?" The man looked at all three of them, wariness in his eyes.

"I'm Dean. This is Sam. The Dean and Sam you've been writing about."

"And I'm Alex. Hello," Alex added.

Chuck closed the door. Dean rung the doorbell again, and Chuck reopened it. "Look, uh, I appreciate your enthusiasm. I really do. It's, uh, it's always nice to hear from fans. But, uh, for your own sake, I strongly suggest you get a life." He closed the door again, but Dean reached out to stop him.

"See, here's the thing. We _have_ a life. You've been using it to write your books." He roughly shoved the door open and walked inside. Sam and Alex followed.

Chuck backed up to let them in. "Now, wait a minute. Now, this isn't funny," he protested.

"Damn straight it isn't funny," Dean retorted.

Alex looked around. The small interior was messy, filled with empty bottles and papers. She wrinkled her nose; it smelled weird too.

"Look," Sam spoke up. "We just want to know how you're doing it."

"I'm not doing anything!"

"Are you a hunter? "Dean persisted. Alex snickered at the thought of Chuck hunting.

"What? No, I'm a writer."

Dean turned on Chuck. "Then how do you know so much about demons?" he challenged. He advanced on Chuck. "And Tulpas? And changlings?" Chuck stepped back, falling back onto the couch.

"Is this some type of 'Misery' thing?" Chuck looked up at them. "Ah, it is, isn't it? It's a 'Misery' thing!"

"No! It's not a 'Misery' thing!" Dean snapped. "Believe me, we are not fans!"

"Well, then what do you want?"

"I'm Sam. And this is Dean."

"Sam and Dean are fictional characters! I made them up! They're not real!" Chuck stood up.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. "Fine." Dean huffed. "We'll prove it. Come on." He led him out of the house and across the street to the car.

"Nice car," Chuck muttered.

"Thanks. It was my dad's." Walking to the front seat, he opened the door, leaning in and popping the trunk. Then he circled around to the back. Alex followed. Dean pushed the crap out of the way and popped open the false bottom, revealing their hunting supplies. Out of caution, Alex cast a quick look around.

"Are those real guns?" Chuck asked, and Alex looked up to see his face was one of pure shock.

"Yep. This is real rock salt, and these are real fake ID's." Dean touched each item in turn.

"Well, I got to hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans." He took a step back, obviously still very nervous. "That's, that's awesome. So, I-I think I got some posters in the house." He took another step back.

"Chuck, stop." Dean stepped forward.

"Please," Chuck begged. "Wait. Please. Don't hurt me."

"How much do you know?" Sam went forward to join his brother. "Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?"

Chuck paused, looking confused. "Wait a minute. How do you guys know about that?"

"The question is how do you?" Dean shot back.

"Because I wrote it?"

"You kept writing?" Sam glanced back at Alex. She shrugged.

"Yeah. Even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never came out. Okay. Wait a minute. This is some kind of joke, right?" He smiled. "Did that -- did Phil put you up to this?"

Alex shook her head, glancing up at Sam. "Phil?" she repeated.

"Well, nice to meet you." Dean shut her up with a nudge. "I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam."

"And I'm Alex," the girl chirped. "I don't have a last name."

Chuck stared, shocked and amazed. "The last names were never in the books. I never told anybody. I never even wrote it down."

Alex smiled. "Hope that proves it then."

Chuck shook his head in disbelief. "This isn't real." He turned away, walking back across the street towards his house. They followed. He walked through the front door, and Alex followed. Sam and Dean hesitated, but followed her.

They found Chuck in the kitchen, a glass in hand. He poured himself a bottle of whiskey, and quickly gulped it down. Sam and Dean stood behind Alex. Chuck turned around, letting out a large groan. "Oh. Oh, you're still here."

"Yep."

"You're not a hallucination."

"Nope." Alex chuckled slightly. She looked down at the kitchen table, which was covered with papers and a laptop.

"Well, there's only one explanation," Chuck concluded. "Obviously I'm a god."

Alex snorted in laughter.

"You're not a god," Sam told him.

"How else do you explain it? I write things and they come to life. Yeah, no, I'm definitely a god. A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you through . . . the physical beatings alone." Chuck looked so distraught that Alex had to advert her gaze to keep herself together.

"Yeah, we're still in one piece," Dean promised.

"I killed your father, I burned your mother alive. And then you had to go through the whole horrific deal again with Jessica--"

"Chuck," Sam interrupted him.

Chuck turned to Alex. "And you. What I put you through with Sam -- I almost killed you off!"

"Well, thanks for not," Alex replied sarcastically.

"And all for what? All for the sake of literary symmetry! I toyed with your lives, emotions, for, entertainment!"

"You didn't toy with us, Chuck, okay?" Dean said, patience wearing thin. "You didn't create us."

"Did you really have to live through the bugs?" Chuck ignored him.

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

"What about the ghost ship?"

"Yes, that too."

"I am so sorry," Chuck apologized. "I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live bad writing? If I had known it was real, I would have done another pass."

"Chuck, you're not a god!" Dean snapped.

Alex pretty much lost it. She bit her lip, trying desperately not to laugh. When that didn't work, she covered it with a cough, thumping her chest to catch her breath. Sam shoved her. "Ow," Alex groaned. "Not nice, Sammy."

Sam ignored her "We think you're probably just psychic," he told Chuck.

"No," Chuck scoffed. "If I were psychic, do you think I'd be writing?" He sat down on at the kitchen table. "Writing is hard!"

"It seems somehow, you're just . . . focused on our lives." Sam explained.

"Yeah. Like, laser-focused."

Chuck looked up. "Wait wait wait. Uh, what about that one blogger? On, uh, on that _Supernatural_ website. And they know about you. Like everything about you. Like I said, the last names were never given. What about them? Are they, like, psychic too?"

Alex bit her lip. "Uh, Chuck, is that blogger called _not-actually-a-winchester_ by any chance?"

"Yeah." Chuck looked up at her. "You know him?"

"Her, actually." Alex looked over at the Winchesters who were glaring at her. "Sorry, I get bored."

"You're the blogger?" Dean shook his head angrily. "Our lives are not for public consumption, dammit!"

"I just answer questions they have and stuff." Alex shrugged her shoulders. "No biggie."

Frustrated, Dean turned back to Chuck. "Are you working on anything right now?"

Realization crossed Chuck's face. "Holy crap," he breathed.

"What?"

"The, uh, latest book? It's, uh, it's kind of weird." He picked up a stack of papers from the table.

"Weird how?" Sam said slowly.

"It's very Vonnegut."

Dean watched the writer intently. "'Slaughterhouse Five' Vonnegut or 'Cat's Cradle' Vonnegut?"

"What?" Sam looked at his brother, obviously shocked Dean knew what Chuck was talking about. Alex had to admit she was lost as well.

Dean pulled a defensive face. "What?"

"It's, uh, 'Kilgore Trout' Vonnegut," Chuck admitted. "I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself, at my house . . . confronted by my characters."

"Oh." Dean seemed shocked. "Uh, can we see it?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Sure." He handed the papers to Dean.

" _The Monster at the End of the Book,_ " Dean read.

"I'm, uh, it's a working title," Chuck explained.

"I like it," Alex shrugged.

"Uh, yeah. Can we, borrow, this for a little while?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Sure." Chuck just seemed to want them out of her house.

"Is this all?" Alex studied the papers. "That's not a lot."

"It's only partially done." Chuck glanced nervously around. "Well, would you, uh, look at the time?"

They took the hint and left.

 

 **W** hen they pulled into their hotel, the sun was setting. After checking in, Alex found herself sitting on the bed, watching Dean read the book-in-progress. The running of water in the pipes above was a constant reminder that Sam was still in the bathroom, taking a shower. Alex sighed, falling back onto the bed. She was bored. Yawn.

The water stopped, and after a few minutes, the bathroom door opened. "Hey," Sam stepped out. "We really need to get to some laundromat or something. I'm almost out a clean clothes."

Dean glanced up. "If it doesn't smell, it can wait."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dude, that's disgusting." He ran his hand through his drying hair. "Come on. When's the last time you washed your clothes?"

"Never," Alex answered for him.

Dean shook his head. "Fine." He gave up, getting to his feet. "You're so picky." He grabbed the car keys. "Get your clothes, and let's go."

Alex did as he said.

 

 **T** hey drove to the nearest laundromat. Dean parked the car, got out, and hurried inside. Sam and Alex followed. Alex threw all of the whites into one machine and turned it on. Dean sat down, picking up the manuscript he had brought with him. "I'm sitting in a laundromat reading about myself sitting in a laundromat reading about myself." He let out a huff of amusement. "My head hurts."

"There's got to be something this guys not telling us," Sam said.

Dean continued. " 'Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He was beginning to have doubts about Chuck, about whether he was telling the whole truth.' " He looked up at Sam, who closed the machine's door.

He turned to Dean. "Stop it," Sam said.

" ''Stop it,' Sam said.' Guess what you do next."

Sam didn't answer, but turned away.

" 'Sam turned his back to Dean, his face brooding and pensive.' " He paused. "I mean, I don't know how this guy is doing it, but this guy is doing it. I can't see your face, but those are definitely your 'brooding and pensive' shoulders."

Alex chuckled, turning away from them. She heard Sam let out an exasperated sigh.

"You just thought I was a dick," Dean read.

"The guys good," Sam admitted.

Alex stifled another chuckle. _A dick? she thought. I wouldn't call him a dick. Well, not all the time. 50% of the time, I suppose. More of a dork. A big, geeky dork._

"Wow. Thanks, Alex." Dean looked up from the manuscript.

"Hm?" Alex turned. "Oh, you're welcome." She walked over to Dean. "Can I see that?"

"Uh, no?" Dean held it out of reach.

"Dean," Alex whined.

"Alex," Dean whined back sarcastically.

"Why not?" Alex crossed her arms. "Are you hiding something? 'Cause I probably already know about it. TV show, remember? I got to see it."

"Pfft. I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just not done reading it, okay?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever. Can I have it when you're done?"

"Fine." Dean started to read it again, and Alex walked over to Sam, bored.

 

 **T** hey got back to the motel within the hour. Alex collapsed on the bed, willing sleep to come. Dean was sitting at the kitchen table with Sam. They were deep in conversation, drinking beer. Dean was flipping through the manuscript, constantly pointing things out. "Hey, can I see that yet?" she asked.

Dean looked up, then sighed. "Fine. Come get it."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Jerk," she muttered, but did as he said. She sat back down on the bed, and began to read. "This thing definitely needs a second pass," she eventually told them. Reaching over to the nightstand, she grabbed a pen. "I mean, listen to this. 'Then, with determination, Dean pushed the doorbell with forceful determination.' Beautiful. How about this instead. 'Dean determinately determined the door with determined determination.' I like that better." She wasn't sure is they were even listening, but Dean let out a huff of amusement, so Alex took it. "How about, 'Then, with a forceful determination, Dean pushed the doorbell.' " She wrote the changes in. "I'll just do a little editing," she told whoever was listening. Hearing no words of protest, she did just that.

 

 **A** t some point she must have drifted off, because when she opened her eyes, sunlight was streaming through the windows. "Rise and shine Alex," Dean said, lifting the covers to roll her off the bed.

Alex let out a surprised cry as she hit the floor. "Ow," she whined, rolling onto her back. She looked up at Dean, who was walking away. "Aren't you going to help me up?"

Dean looked back at the girl on the floor, then rolled his eyes. He walked away.

Alex got to her feet. "Where's the Samster?" she asked.

"Breakfast run." Dean told her. "I'm gonna take a shower. Save me food."

"Okay." As soon as he went into the bathroom, Alex walked over to her bag. She pulled out two shirts: a black t-shirt and a navy green plaid one. She quickly changed.

As she pulled the black shirt over her head, the door opened, and Sam stepped in. "Hey."

"Hey." Alex glanced over at him. "Breakfast?"

Sam nodded, tossing a fast food bag onto the table. "Dig in." He put down two cups of coffee, then handed Alex a cup as well.

She took it, giving it a sniff. "Yay. Cooler?" Sam nodded. She took a sip. "Yum." Then she sat down at the table, opening the bag. "Bagels." She pulled one out, unwrapped it, and took a bite.

Dean's phone rang. "Can someone get that?" Dean yelled.

Alex answered. "Yeah, hello?"

"Hey, it's, it's, uh, Chuck."

"Oh. Yeah. Chuck. How's it going?" When he didn't answer, Alex glanced over at Sam. "You still there?"

"Yeah. C-Could you guys come over? I, uh, I wrote another chapter."

"Yeah, sure. We'll be there soon." Alex hung up, and walked over to the bathroom. She pounded on the door. "Hurry up in there! Chuck called, we're heading over there. You're driving." She walked back over to Sam.

"What's up with Chuck?" he asked.

"He wrote another chapter," Alex said bluntly.

Sam stiffened slightly. "Oh."

The bathroom door opened. "What?" Dean leaned out, shirtless.

"Put your clothes on," Alex told him. "Chuck's done some more writing. We're going over."

Dean closed the door, then emerged a minute later, fully dressed. "Okay. Let's go then." He slipped his necklace over his head and grabbed the car keys. Alex turned to follow, reaching up to feel her necklace as well.

 

 **I** t was a ten minute drive to Chuck's. He let them in, leading them into the living room. He was holding several pages of paper, pacing back and forth.

"So," Sam broke the building silence. "You wrote another chapter?"

"This was all so much easier before you were real," Chuck told them nervously.

"We can take it; just spit it out." Dean sat down in one of the chairs, patience wearing thin.

Chuck glanced at him. "You especially are not going to like this."

"I didn't like Hell," Dean snapped.

Chuck hesitated. "It's Lilith. She's coming for Sam."

"Coming to kill him?"

"When?" Sam asked at the same time.

"Tonight." Chuck answered Sam, but ignored Dean.

"She's just going to show up? Here?" Dean asked again.

Chuck sat down, putting on his glasses. Uh, let's see. Uh," he nervously began reading. "Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desires, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion."

Alex raised an eyebrow, while both Dean and Sam visibly stiffened. Sam let out a nervous laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

"You think this is funny?" Dean snapped at his brother.

"You don't? I mean come on! 'Fiery demonic passion'?"

"It's just a first draft," Chuck defended his writing quietly.

"Wait wait wait wait." Dean held up his hands. "Lilith is a little girl."

"Her vessel was a little girl," Alex reminded him.

Chuck agreed. "This time she's a, 'comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana'."

"Great," Dean muttered. "Perfect. So what happens after the -- 'fiery demonic' whatever?"

"I don't know," Chuck admitted. "It hasn't come to me yet."

"Dean, look, there's nothing to worry about. Lilith and me? In bed?" Sam let out another unbelieving laugh.

Dean looked over a Sam. "How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?" he asked Chuck, still holding Sam's gaze.

"You, you mean my process?"

"Yeah. Your 'process'."

"Well, it usually starts with a headache. A really bad headache. Aspirin is useless, so I drink. Until I fall asleep. The first time it happened, I thought it was just a crazy dream--"

"The first time you dreamed about us?"

"It flowed, it just kept flowing. It still does. I-I can't stop it, really."

"You can't seriously believe--" Sam began.

"Humor me," Dean said loudly. He stood up, and Chuck stood as well, handing him the manuscript. "Look. why don't we, we just take a look at theses and see what's what." He took the pages from Chuck. He paused. "You--"

"--knew you were going to ask for that," Chuck finished. "Yeah."

Dean nodded, slightly disconcerted. "Great." He walked towards the door. Sam slowly followed.

Alex handed Chuck the manuscript from yesterday. "I proof-read it. Made a few changes. And, uh," she lowered her voice, "let's keep the embarrassing stuff about me to a minimum, okay?"

"It's not really my choice--"

"But it's your choice what you put in the final copy, right? I'm not saying take me out completely. Just not too much. You know, with the future tv show stuff, right? Don't need those two knowing about their destinies, right?" She motioned toward the door where the Winchesters had left from.

"Uh, yeah." Chuck nodded nervously. "Sure."

"Cool." Alex patted him on the shoulder. A honk made her jump, and she recognized it as from the Impala. "Got to go." She ran out of the door and jumped into the Impala. "Where we off to?"

"Out of town," Dean said gravely, starting up the car.

Sam was looking at the latest pages. "I can't believe you Dean. You seriously think this guy is telling the truth? I mean, come on." He started reading. " 'The minivan accident wasn't that bad, but Dean was still seeing stars. He scratched absently at the pink flower Band-Aid on his face.' "

"So?" Dean looked over at his brother.

"So, I've seen you gushing blood. You'd use duct tape and bar rags before you put on a pink flower Band-Aid."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, all of this is totally implausible. It's nuts."

"He's been right about everything so far," Dean argued. "You think he's just gonna ground out at first now?"

Sam let out a huff, and continued to read. "' Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved Impala, with Alex beside him. They drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow.' "

Alex leaned forward. "I'd reword that last sentence. Maybe something like, 'the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping in the wind.' Works better."

"A tarp?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. On the rear window. And you drive it like that," Sam scoffed.

"Well, he might wrong about the details, but it doesn't mean he's wrong about the end result."

"So we're just gonna run?" Sam looked out the window.

"Dude, we're far from ready for a face-to-face death match with Lilith." Dean slowed the car, and Alex looked up to see police cars and road blocks ahead. A police officer approached, and Dean leaned out the window. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked.

"Bridge is out ahead," the officer told them.

"We're just trying to get out of town," Dean explained, letting out a small laugh.

The officer shook his head. "Yeah, afraid not."

"Is there a detour?"

"Nope."

"There's not a side road that takes us out to the highway?"

"To get to the highway, you have to cross that river, and to cross that river, you have to take that bridge."

Dean started to get desperate. "How deep is that river?"

"Sorry." The officer shrugged. "Afraid you guys are going to have to spend the night in town."

Dean cast a sorrowful look at his brother, but turned the car around and drove away.

"Okay. That didn't go as planned. "Alex leaned between them. "So how about some lunch?" She cast a quick glance at the clock. It was a little past twelve. When neither Sam nor Dean responded, Alex added, "We've got nothing better to do. May as well grab some grub, figure out our next plans."

Finally Dean sighed. "Fine, okay. Whatever."

 

 **T** hey pulled into a nice looking diner a few minutes later. Going inside, they found the interior decorated in a log-cabin fashion. Alex liked it. They were escorted to their table, and Alex sat between Sam and Dean. Dean had brought in the manuscript, and, after ordering beers for him and Sam and a Mountain Dew for Alex, he began to read.

"Hey, this could be a good thing," he finally said. "I mean, if this is what puts us on the path to Lilith, then all we got to do is get off the path."

"How do you mean?" Sam put down the menu, glancing up at his brother.

"It's a blueprint of what not to do. I mean, if the pages say we should go left--"

"Then we go right," Sam finished, catching on. Alex hid a small smile, wishing them good luck with that plan. Dean held out the manuscript, and Sam took it.

"Exactly." Dean put down the papers. "We get off-book, we never make it to the end. It's opposite day. It says, uh, we get into a fight. So no fighting. No research for you--"

"No bacon cheeseburger for you," Sam added.

Dean's smile immediately faded. "Yeah, uh, no problem. I'll just get something else." The waitress approached their table. Dean looked up at her. "Hi, uh, what's good?"

"Well, if you like burgers, Oprah's girlfriend said we have the best bacon cheeseburgers in the country."

Sam let out a small laugh, and Alex smiled.

"Really?" Dean asked, conflict in his eyes.

"I'll just have the cobb salad, please," Sam told the waitress.

Dean looked down at the menu. "And I'll have . . . the veggie tofu burger."

Alex chuckled. "What does it say I have?"

"Double bacon cheeseburger," Sam read. Dean scowled.

"I'll have the double bacon cheeseburger," Alex told the waitress. She nodded, then left.

"Dude, what happened to our plan?" Dean snapped.

"Relax. Lilith's not going to kill us because I eat a cheeseburger," Alex scoffed.

Sam agreed, "This whole thing is ridiculous."

"Lilith is ridiculous?" Dean glanced at his brother.

"The idea of me hooking up with her is."

"Right. Because something like that could _never_ happen."

Sam scowled, but forced himself to be calm. "Dean, for the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close."

"So?"

"So, we've got the jump on her. If we know when's she's coming, we know where's she's -- it's an opportunity."

"Are you--" Dean snapped, then stopped. He lowered his voice. "It frustrates me when you say such reckless things."

"Well it frustrates me when you'd rather hide than fight," Sam hissed.

Alex huffed in amusement. "Good job on not fighting."

The waitress approached, carrying their food. "A cobb salad for you, the double bacon cheeseburger for you, and the tofu veggie burger for you." She handed each of them their plates.

"Thanks." Alex looked down at her food. It looked _really_ good. She took a bite. Yum.

"It's not hiding," Dean continued, "it's being smart. It's picking your battles. This is a battle we're not ready to fight." He took a bite of his food, then stopped. "Oh my god! This is delicious. Tofu is amazing."

As he spoke, the waitress approached, carrying another plate. She appeared flustered. "I am so sorry. I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake." She took the plate from Dean, who watched it go. She handed him the other one, then left.

Dean looked despairingly down at his food. He took a bite, then another, then put his food down, sighing. Alex took bite out of her food. She was almost half done, and with another glance at Dean, sighed, and put down her food. She pushed her plate over to Dean. "Thanks," he muttered, shooting her a thankful glance.

"Whatever," Alex smiled in amusement. She kept nibbling on her fries as Dean finished her food.

 

 **T** hey quickly left the restaurant, and Dean started looking for a place to spend the night. He soon pulled into the Toreador Motel parking lot, and parked the car.

"You can't be serious," Sam scoffed. "This place charges by the hour."

"Yeah, well, the book says Lilith finds you at the Red Motel. Hence the, uh, hooker inn. It's opposite day, remember?"

He checked them in then went into their room. Alex looked around. 'Hooker inn' described it pretty well. Dean threw his bag on the nearest bed, digging through it. Alex watched him pull out several small bags which were then placed methodically around the room.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Couple of hex bags ought to Lilith-proof the room."

"So what, I'm just suppose to hole up in here all night?"

"That's exactly what you're going to do, okay? And no research. I don't care what you do -- use the Magic Fingers or watch Casa Erotica on Pay-Per-View." By this time he was standing over by the door. He paused, and reached into Sam's bag, pulling out his laptop.

"Oh, dude, come on," Sam begged.

"Just call it a little insurance."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, the pages say I spend the day riding around in the Impala. So I'm going to park her. Behave yourself, would you? No homework. Watch some porn." And with that, he left. Alex followed. When Dean noticed, he turned back to her. "You can't come with."

"Dude, you just told him to watch porn. I'm _not_ staying." She got into the Impala, and Dean sighed. "There's a coffee shop down the street. Should we park her and head down there?"

"Fine," Dean sighed. He started the car. "No way we're keeping her here. Charge for parking my ass."

Alex smiled.

 

 **T** hey drove around, finding a nearby parking lot. Dean put her in park, got out, and locked the car. Alex got out as well, following him. They crossed the street, and Dean started down the street. Suddenly he stopped, turning back towards the Impala. Alex looked, startled. Two teenagers were trying to break into the car. "Hey!" Dean yelled, starting towards them. He stepped into the road. "Hey!"

Out of nowhere, a van careened down the street. It collided with Dean, and he rolled up the hood. As it stopped, he fell onto the pavement. "Dean!" Alex yelled. The couple in the van got out, kneeling by him. Alex hurried over. He was unconscious. The sound of shattering glass made Alex look up. The teenagers had broken the rear window. "Hey!" Alex yelled, standing up. She checked the street before running over to them. "Get away from my car."

One of the boys turned to her. He looked her up and down. "Your car, eh?" He let out a laugh. "Get lost."

"Make me." Alex balled up her fists. The other teen was trying to get into the Impala through the broken window. "Get out of there." She stepped forward, grabbing ahold of his ankle, yanking him off.

The first teen spun her around, eyes glowering. Alex punched him in the jaw, and he fell to the ground. "I said, get out of here," she growled, fists balled.

The boy scrambled to his feet, eyes watering. Alex narrowed her eyes, and he ran. The second boy followed. Deeming the car safe, she hurried back to Dean. A young girl had gotten out of the van, and was now in the process of putting the last of her pink Band-Aids on Dean's face. Alex knelt down beside him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the women pleaded. "I didn't see him, and he just stepped out--"

"It's okay, it's fine." Alex shook Dean. "Dean-o?"

Dean stirred, cracking open his eyes.

"Oh my god. Just take it easy, you're going to be okay," the woman promised.

"Stars?" he murmured. Confused, Alex followed his gaze. Oh. The woman's earrings were several stars hanging from wire.

"What was that?" she asked.

Dean blinked, struggling to raise his head to look around.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you. Are you okay?"

Dean sat up, and Alex helped him.

"And sorry about . . . you know." The woman glanced over at her young daughter. "M-My doctor's going through a doctor phase."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, running his hand through his hair.

"You're all better now," the young girl told him.

Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion. Alex reached out, pulling off one of the Band-Aids. Dean hissed in pain, turning to look at her. However, his gaze travelled past her and turned into one of horror. He stood up. "Oh no." He ran towards the Impala. Alex followed. "No no no." He stared at the broken rear window.

"Sorry." Alex apologized. "But I fought them off before they could take anything." She watched as Dean peeled off another Band-Aid, dropping it on the ground.

"Dammit," he cursed, then froze. "We need to find Chuck."

"Are you sure you're okay?" The woman approached. "What happened to your car?"

"Teenagers," Alex explained.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Alex glanced over at the Impala. "Do you by any chance have a tarp?"

 

 **F** ive minutes later, they were on the road, a clear plastic tarp flapping in the wind. Dean scowled, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Alex sighed, slumping down in the seat. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive?" she asked. "I mean, you did just get hit by a minivan."

"It's fine," Dean hissed. Alex shrugged, staring out the window.

 

 **I** t was almost seven o'clock when Chuck returned. Alex and Dean had helped themselves to the food in the fridge, and Alex had made sandwiches for dinner. Finally, she heard the door click open, and footsteps sounded in the hall. Chuck entered the living room. He was carrying a brown bag and a six pack. He glanced at them. "Alex. Dean," he acknowledged them with nod.

"I take it you knew we were going to be here."

"You look terrible."

"That's 'cause I just got hit by a minivan, Chuck," Dean snapped.

"Oh."

"That it? Every damn thing you write about me comes true and all you have to say is 'oh'?" Dean stood up, very much pissed.

"Please don't yell at me." Chuck shrunk away.

"Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me?"

"What wouldn't I be telling you?"

"How do you know what you know, for starters?" Dean angrily stepped forward.

"I don't know how I know, I just do."

"That's not good enough." Dean shoved Chuck roughly against the wall.

"Dean! Stop!" Alex stood up.

"How the hell are you doing this?"

"Dean. Let him go!" Castiel's voice sounded behind them. Alex spun around, and Dean dropped Chuck. "This man is to be protected."

"Why?"

"He's a Prophet of the Lord."

Dean stared blankly, and Alex nodded. _Right_. She totally knew that.

"You -- you're Castiel, aren't you?" Chuck nervously approached.

"It's an honor to meet you, Chuck. I . . . admire your work." Castiel glanced over at the shelf next to him, picking up one of the _Supernatural_ books. He flipped through it.

"Whoa who. What? This guy, a prophet? Come on -- he's . . . he's practically a Penthouse Forum writer!" Dean turned to Chuck. "You knew about this?"

Chuck didn't immediately answer, but walked over and sat down in his armchair. He poured himself a drink from the bottle in the bag. "I, uh, I might have dreamt about it."

"And you didn't tell us?" Dean's frustration returned.

"It was too preposterous. Not to mention arrogant. I mean, writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That's like M. Night-level douchiness." He took a long, desperate drink.

Alex let out a huff, and looked up at Cas. "Hey," she shot him a half-hearted smile.

"Hello," Castiel nodded, glancing over at her. He awkwardly turned back to Chuck, and Alex could swear he was nervous. She watched him carefully, confused.

"So this is the guy who decides our fate?" Dean asked the angel quietly.

"He isn't deciding anything," Castiel corrected. "He's a mouthpiece -- a conduit for the inspired word."

"The word? Like the word of God? What, like the new new testament?"

"One day these books will be known as the Winchester gospel."

"You've got to be kidding me," Chuck and Dean said in unison. At that, Alex let out a chuckle. Dean glared at her.

"I am not . . . kidding you."

"I don't think he can 'kid'," Alex added.

"If you'd both please excuse me for a minute." Chuck stood up and hurried upstairs, whiskey bottle in hand. Alex watched him go.

"Him? Really?" Dean turned back to Castiel.

"You should have seen Luke."

Alex let out a small laugh.

"Why'd he get tapped?"

"I don't know how prophets are chosen. The orders come from high up on the celestial chain of command."

"How high?" Alex asked, curious.

"Very."

"Well, whatever." Dean interrupted them. "How do we get around this?"

"Around what?"

"The Sam-Lilith love connection. How do we stop it from happening?"

"What the prophet has written can't be unwritten. As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass."

Dean glanced at Alex desperately. She just rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. As long as Sam doesn't do anything stupid, we'll be fine. We can stop this," she promised.

"Sam." Dean stopped. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. He dialed a number, and listened. Apparently he was calling Sam, and apparently he didn't answer, because Dean hung up. "We should go."

"Okay." Alex shrugged. "See you around, Cas."

He was already gone.

They went back out to the car and got in. "You knew, didn't you?"

Alex glanced at the hunter. "Sorry," she started to apologize.

"Whatever." Dean just shook his head. "Just promise me. You're not going to let this happen, okay?"

"I will do everything I possibly can," Alex promised solemnly.

 

 **T** hey drove back to the Toreador Motel. The sun had set, and the roads were dark. Dean pulled into the parking lot, and Alex noticed that the red neon sign had changed. Several of the letters had gone out, and it now read the 'Re d Motel'. When they got out of the car, Alex nudged Dean, showing it to him. He shook his head despairingly and walked into their room. "Come on, we're getting out," he told Sam.

Sam looked over at him from the bed. "What? Where?" He stood up.

"Anywhere, okay? Out of this motel, out of this town. I don't care if we got to swim, we're getting out." He started packing Sam's bag. He walked over to the beds, then stopped. "Dude, where are all the hex bags?"

"I burned them."

"You what?" Dean turned to his brother.

"Look. If Lilith is coming, which is a big 'if'--"

"No no no no. It's more than an 'if.' Chuck isn't a physic. He's a prophet."

"What?" Sam froze.

"Like Daniel or Luke," Alex snapped. "An actual prophet."

"Cas showed up and apparently Chuck is writing the gospel of us," Dean added.

"Okay." Sam tried to wrap his head around it.

"Okay. Now let's get the hell out of here." Dean slung his bag around his shoulder and walked towards the door.

"No."

Dean stopped. "Lilith's going to slaughter you," he told him.

"Maybe she will, maybe she won't."

"So what? You think you can take her?"

"Only one way to find out, Dean, and I say bring her on." Sam shifted his weight, crossing his arms.

"Sam . . ."

"You think I'll do it, don't you? You think I'll go dark side."

Alex watched the two brothers interact. She still was really uncomfortable around them when they fought.

"Yes, okay? Yes! The way you've been acting lately, the things you've been doing?" When Sam looked up sharply, Dean continued. "Oh, I know. How you ripped Alastair apart like it was nothing, like you were swatting a fly. Cas told me, okay?"

"What else did he tell you?" Sam's voice was filled with fear and guarded curiosity.

"Nothing I don't already know. That you've been using your physic crap, and that you've been getting stronger. We just don't know why, or don't know how." Dean glanced at Alex, and she in turn looked over at Sam. His eyes were on fire. Alex looked away, knowing Dean wanted her to tell them what she knew, and Sam just wanted to kill her.

"It's not what you think," Sam snapped.

"Then what is it, Sam? 'Cause I'm at a total loss." Dean grabbed his bag and stomped towards the door. "Are you coming or not?"

"No."

Dean paused. Then he threw his bag down on the chair and left, slamming the door behind him.

Alex turned to Sam, whose eyes were still smoldering. Finding nothing to say, she hurried out the door after Dean.

She saw him walk down the motel porch and over to a vending machine. She slowly followed in the dark, not wanting to get to close. "Well, I feel stupid doing this," she heard him say. "But, I'm fresh out of options." He turned to look up at the sky. "So please. I need some help." His voice grew. "I'm praying, okay? So come on!"

"Prayer is a sign of faith." Castiel appeared to his right. "This is a good thing, Dean."

"So does this mean you'll help me?" Dean begged. Alex approached.

"I'm not sure what I can do."

"Drag Sam out of there now. Before Lilith shows up."

"It's a prophecy. I can't interfere."

"You have tested me and thrown me every which way. And I have never asked for anything. Not a damn thing. But now I'm asking. I need your help. Please." Dean sounded so desperate, so distraught, it wrenched Alex's heart.

"What you're asking . . . it's not within my power to do," Castiel said slowly.

"Why?" Dean snapped. "Because it's 'divine prophecy'?"

"Yes."

"So what? We're just suppose to sit around and wait for this to happen?"

"I'm sorry."

"Screw you. You and your mission. Your God. If you don't help me now, then when that time comes when you need me -- don't bother knocking." He turned and started to walk away.

"Cas," Alex begged quietly. "There's got to be something you can do. Anything."

Castiel turned his blue eyes to her, emotions flickering through his eyes. "Dean. Dean."

The hunter turned back, pissed. "What?"

"You must understand why I can't help interfere. Prophets are very special. They are protected."

"I get that."

"If anything threatens a prophet -- anything at all -- an archangel will appear to destroy that threat. Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They're Heaven's most terrifying weapon."

"And these archangels. They're tied to that prophet?" Dean was starting to catch on. Alex let out a barely contained smile as understood as well.

"Yes."

"So if a prophet were in the same room as a demon--"

"Then the most fearsome wrath of Heaven would rain down on the demon. Just so you understand . . . why I can't help." He met Dean's gaze, who nodded.

"Thanks Cas."

"Good luck."

Dean hurried to the Impala. Alex turned to Castiel. "Thank you."

"Anything for you." Castiel nodded, then disappeared before Alex could ask what he meant. She narrowed her eyes in confusion, but got into the Impala. She thought on Castiel's words as they drove down the street.

 

 **T** hey pulled into Chuck's neighborhood a few minutes later. Dean sprung out of the car, and hurried up into the house. Alex followed. He flung open the door and stalked inside. Chuck was laying on the couch; he looked up, surprised. "What are you doing?" he asked. "I didn't write this."

Dean grabbed him, pulling him to his feet. "Come on. I need you to come with me."

Chuck glanced over at Alex, confusion in his eyes. "What? Where?"

"To the motel where Sam is." Dean led him over to the door.

Chuck struggled away. "That's where Lilith is!" he stammered.

"Yeah. Exactly. I need you to stop her."

"Are you insane? Lilith? Do you know what she's capable of? I _wrote_ her."

"Alright, listen to me. You have an archangel tethered to you, okay? All you have to do is show up, and boom! Lilith gets smoked."

"B-But the story! I haven't written that yet--"

"Chuck, you're the only shot that I have left," Dean cut in.

"But, I'm just a writer . . ."

"This isn't a story anymore," Alex snapped. "This is real, and like it or not, you're in it."

"Now we need you to get off your ass and fight," Dean added. "Come on." He started toward the door.

"No friggin way," Chuck protested.

"Okay, well, how about this." Dean turned back to him, patience wearing thin. "I have a gun in my pocket, and if you don't come with me I'll blow your brains out."

"I thought you said I was protected by an archangel," Chuck said somewhat triumphantly.

"Well, interesting exercise. Let's see who the quicker draw is." Dean's hand moved towards the gun in his belt.

Chuck paused, then gave in. They walked out to the car, and hurriedly drove away. Chuck got shotgun, and Alex was once more in the back.

 

 **T** hey pulled up to the motel, and Dean jumped out. Chuck followed, and Alex pushed him to go faster. Dean flung open the door, and they rushed in. Sam and Lilith were on the bed, struggling. Sam was holding the demon knife, trying to stab her. Alex slid to a stop.

"I am the prophet Chuck!" Chuck yelled without much conviction.

Lilith stood up. "You have got to be kidding me." She menacingly approached.

"Oh, this is no joke," Dean told her. Everything in the room suddenly began to shake. "You see, Chuck here's got an archangel on his shoulder." White light began to pour into the room, and the lamp fell over. Dean had to raise his voice to be heard. "You've got about ten seconds before this room is full of wrath and you're a piece of charcoal. You sure you want to tangle with that?"

Lilith took a step back, fear flashing through her eyes. She glanced back at Sam, then threw back her head, black smoke billowing out of her mouth. It fled through the window, and the woman collapsed. The light and shaking slowly faded until it was gone, leaving the four of them alone in the room.

Dean stared at Sam, who had sat up, breathing heavily, knife in hand. "Let's get out of here," was all Dean said. Sam just nodded. Chuck ran.

They gathered their bags and drove, leaving the woman on the floor, and Chuck wherever-he-had-ran-off-to. They just drove.

 

 **T** he ride was silent until Sam spoke. "Dean, it's not what you think."

"It's no, huh?" Dean snapped.

"Just hear me out. She offered me a deal. She'd call off the whole apocalypse in exchange for our lives."

Dean sat there silently for several seconds. "So a deal, huh?"

"That's what I said."

"To call the whole thing off -- angels, seven seals, Lucifer rising, the whole nine?" Dean seemed to have trouble wrapping his head around it.

"That's the gist of it."

"Huh."

"What?" Sam glanced over at his brother.

"And you didn't think once about taking it?"

"Well, I thought about letting her have Alex," Sam half joked.

"Aw," Alex leaned forward over the seat. "Love you too, Sammy."

"I'm serious, Sam."

"Are you kidding?" Sam scoffed. "You spent the whole day trying to talk me off the Lilith track."

"I'm just saying--"

"She would have found someway to weasel out of it. And all if would have cost us is our lives."

Dean was silence for a moment. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Anyways, that's not the point."

"What's the point?" Dean looked over at Sam.

"Eyes on the road." Alex slapped him gently on the shoulder.

"The point is, she's scared. I could see it. Lilith is running."

"Running from what?" Dean shot Alex a glance. She shrugged.

"Don't know. But she was telling the truth about one thing."

"Hm?" Alex leaned towards him. "Pray tell."

"She's not going to survive the apocalypse. I'll make sure of that."

Images flashed through Alex's mind; Sam killing Lilith, breaking the final seal. She took in a breath, leaning back in her seat. She closed her eyes. She had to tell them. This was something they _needed_ to know. So why couldn't she bring herself to do it? She let out that breath as the car fell into silence. She'd tell them when the time was right.


	21. Heartbreaker

**"S** o get this."

Alex rolled her eyes, glancing over at the hunter. "Hm?"

Sam turned his laptop so she could see. "Remember those cattle mutilations in the news last week?"

"Yeah. Uh, down in Texas, right?" Dean walked out of the bathroom, hair still damp from the shower he had just taken. He strolled across room to them, grabbing a shirt on the way. Alex ran an eye over his muscular torso before turning back to Sam.

"Right. We didn't think much of it--"

"--because it's typical alien signs," Alex finished. "And aliens aren't real."

"Exactly. But check it out." Sam spun his laptop towards Dean. "Richard Parker. Found last night torn to shreds."

"Sounds like our kind of thing." Dean scrolled through the article. "Outside of Baytown. That's a what? Five hour drive?"

Sam agreed, and Alex groaned. "So we're leaving? Now?"

"Next five minutes or so. Get packed." Dean pulled on his shirt.

Alex rolled her eyes and rolled out of bed. She misjudged the amount of bed she had left, however, and fell flat on the floor. Sam laughed. "Shut up," Alex grumbled. She threw her clothes into her bag before rolling up a shirt she had left in the bathroom.

She grabbed her Colt 1911 from under her pillow before checking to make sure her necklace was on. Sam and Dean were already ready to go. "Let's roll." Alex slung her bag over her shoulder and followed them out.

 

 **T** hey arrived in Baytown, Texas, around 11 o'clock. Sam and Alex donned on their FBI outfits and headed out to Stinson's Ranch. They dropped Dean off at the Baytown Police Station.

Sam drove the Impala down the long driveway and parked it in front of the ranch style house. They knocked on the door. An old man answered. "What'd you want?"

"Agent Ford and Rollins. FBI." Sam flashed his badge, and Alex did the same, straightening her back to seem taller. "Are you Mr. Stinson?"

"Maybe." However, the man stepped out on to the porch. "What's the matter?"

"Mr. Stinson, you are the one who's been reporting the cattle mutilations, correct?"

"Me and a couple other farmers. Why?"

"We were wondering if we could examine one of your more recent mutilations."

Mr. Stinson narrowed his eyes. "Since when's the FBI been interested in cattle deaths?"

"Since it may be linked to the murder of Richard Parker," Sam replied shortly. "It may be able to give us insight into what killed him."

"Twas aliens," the old muttered, but led them out into the fields behind his house. "There's one that happened last night." He pointed towards under a tree.

Alex and Sam followed his finger. They wrinkled their noses at the sight. Flies buzzed around a large carcass. "Go get 'em, tiger." Sam nudged her towards the dead carcass.

Alex picked up a stick and approached. The chest had been violently torn open. "This seems a little bloody to be aliens," she remarked. "The entire chest cavity's been ripped apart."

Mr. Stinson nodded. "Local cops said it was a coyote or something. Others say chupacabra. But it's aliens, through an' through."

Alex poked at the gaping wound. "And did the police say if anything was missing?"

"They didn't take too good a look."

Alex poked through the organs, taking a mental stock. She paused. Something was missing. She looked up at Sam, who looked back. Alex stood up, discarding the stick. "I think we've got everything we need, sir. Thank you for your time." She started to walk away.

Sam hurried to catch up. "What did you find?" he asked, glancing back to where Mr. Stinson was staring at his cow, shaking his head.

"Back at Bobby's, I helped slaughter cows," Alex began. "So I'm pretty familiar with their anatomy." She wiped her hands on her dress pants. "Almost everything was there. The cow's heart was missing."

 

 **B** ack at the motel, Dean was sitting at the table, waiting for them. His suit coat was on the bed, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. He ran a hand through his brown hair when they walked through the door. "I think I know what we're dealing with," he told them.

"Werewolf?" both Sam and Alex guessed at the same time.

Dean frowned. "Yeah. How'd you . .."

"The cow was missing its heart," Alex explained. She grabbed a beer out of the already stocked fridge. "Smelled like hell."

"You have no idea what Hell smells like," Dean muttered.

"I've got a pretty good idea." Alex sat down on the bed. "So. Any possible suspects? Leads on the victim?"

"Nope. Carver was found on a jogging trail miles from any house. A couple of bikers found him yesterday morning. Chest ripped open, heart missing."

"So what? A werewolf's been snacking on long pig _and_ beef?" Alex cracked open her beer. "That's unusual."

"But not impossible," Sam added. "Remember those vamps a couple years back?"

"Yeah. They fed on cow's blood or something." Dean nodded.

"Maybe this werewolf's the same way. Maybe he just slipped up."

Dean grunted. "He's still a monster, Sammy. We've got to kill him."

"I know, but--"

"But what? We should sit around and wait for him to kill again?"

Sam shook his head, unsure.

"Okay. Where do we start?" Alex stood up, grabbing her bag she had dropped on the floor. Without waiting for an answer, she entered the bathroom and changed.

Dean and Sam were deep in conversation when she returned. Sam looked up at her, frustrated. Alex met his gaze. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Uh, okay. So how do we start to find this guy?"

"We investigate." Dean stood up. "You're with me. Sammy, talk to those bikers. Uh, Sarah and James Anniston."

Sam pulled out his laptop. "Okay. I'll check it out in a few minutes."

"You need a ride?" Dean grabbed his jacket, heading towards the door. Sam shook his head.

"Dean, I just changed." Alex looked down at her jeans and shirt. Which wasn't actually her shirt. It was Deans, and several sizes to big.

"Whatever. Come on." They left.

 

 **"O** kay." Dean pulled the car up alongside a house. "Alice Parker, Richie's wife. Has a solid alibi; she was at her neighbor's with a couple friends." They got out, and Alex put her FBI ID into her jacket pocket.

"Oh yeah. Agent Rollins, by the way."

Dean nodded and knocked on the door. A young woman answered. "Hello?"

"Yes. Agents Jones and Rollins." They flashed their FBI badges. "We're investigating the death of your husband?"

"Uh, yes, yes come in." Mrs. Parker ushered them inside. "The police said it was a wild animal. Why are the FBI here?"

"Just precaution," Dean promised.

Mrs. Parker studied Alex. "She's with you?"

"Agent Rollins." Alex showed her FBI badge again, slightly impatient. Why did everyone always question her?

"You're dressed very casual for FBI," the wife noted casually.

"I wasn't suppose to be on duty today," Alex explained. "But Frank's partner got sick. Food poisoning. I was just called in without time to change into something more, formal."

"Hm." Mrs. Parker led them into the living room. "Please. Have a seat."

They did. "Mrs. Parker," Dean began. "I am sorry for your loss."

"I just don't understand." Mrs. Parker wiped a tear from her eye. "Rich had been walking along that trail every day for the past four months. And there hasn't been any dangerous animals around for as long as I can remember. How could something like this happen?" Her voice shook.

"Yes, well," Dean glanced at Alex. "We, uh, just have a few questions. Is there, uh, anyone who held any sort of grudge against your husband?"

"No." Mrs. Parker looked confused. "The police said this was an animal attack."

"We just need to cover every angle," Dean promised. "Has anything around here been, unusual? Any changes in behaviors of anyone in particular?"

The woman narrowed her eyes. "No, no. Nothing that I noticed. Although Ian has been unusually closed off recently."

"Ian?" Dean glanced at Alex. Alex shrugged. She'd never heard of Ian.

"The man at the end of the street. He use to be very friendly, but the past few months he barely comes out of his house. But I'm sure he has nothing to do with this."

"Of course. But, has, uh, Ian had any other strange changes in behavior?"

Mrs. Parker shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know. I haven't talked to him in several months. No one has. He just shuts himself in his house."

Dean nodded. "Thank you. If we have anymore questions, we'll call."

"Yes, yes. Okay." Mrs. Parker showed them out. "Have a good day."

"You too." Dean and Alex hurried back down to the Impala.

"So, is this Ian a lead?" Alex dared to ask.

"Well, it's the only lead we got. Let's see if Sam found anything." He pulled out his phone. It rang, and Sam answered. "Hey Sam." Pause. "Yeah, we talked to her. She said that, uh, her neighbor, Ian Kelly, has been acting strange." A longer pause. "Okay. Ten-four."

 

 **T** hey were back at the motel within ten minutes. Sam was their waiting. "What'd you learn?" he asked as they walked through the door.

"One of their neighbors has been acting weird," Dean explained. "He's shut himself in his house. What'd you find?"

"Well, no real lead with the bikers. Their story checks out. But, ah, I did some digging on Ian after you called. Uh, about four months ago, he quit his job. He's been working from home ever since. Apart from that, no criminal records, no nothing."

"Pretty vanilla." Dean sat down on one of the beds. "Okay. So, maybe we should talk to him."

Sam shrugged. "Sounds like the best plan so far."

 

 **S** am and Dean left a few minutes later. Alex stayed at the motel. She flopped down on the bed, reaching for the remote. "I'm bored," she whined aloud after discovering that nothing was on. She reluctantly got up and retrieved Dean's laptop.

 

 **T** he door flew open, and Alex jumped, spinning around to see what it was. Sam stalked into the room, face twisted into a frown. Dean followed.

"Uh, how'd it go?" Alex tossed her gun back onto the bed. "You okay?"

"We're fine." Dean pawed through his bag. "Pretty sure it's him. We'll find out tonight?"

"Tonight?"

 

 **A** lex crept up the stairs, silver knife in hand. Sam and Dean were still checking downstairs. She hurried down the hallway, checking every door. One was closed. It swung open with a single touch. Alex's blood ran cold. Inside was Ian, blood dripping down his chin. A mutilated corpse lay behind him. He let out an inhuman snarl, launching himself at her. Alex swung the silver knife, cutting through his flesh. He screeched, backing away. Footsteps hurried up the stairs, and Alex's attention swiveled. That single moment of distraction was all the werewolf needed. It tackled Alex to the ground. Alex hit the wooden floor, knocking the wind out of her. The silver knife landed beside her. She reached for it, and let out a scream. Pain sliced through her as claws ripped at her side. Another pair of claws ran down her left thigh, digging in deep. Then the weight on her was gone. Another bloodcurdling scream, and then silence.

"Alex?" Dean knelt beside her. "Sam!" He put his hand over her side. Alex did the same, pulling back to see it was covered in blood. She let out a wet cough, sitting up. "Woah, woah woah." Dean held her down. "Stay still. Sam! Hurry up!"

"What's wrong?" Sam knelt down as well. He peeled back her shirt and grimaced. "That's gonna need stitches. Lots of them."

Alex whimpered as Sam pressed something against her side.

"It's okay, it's okay, girl," Dean promised. "You'll be fine. Just a little scratch."

As Alex calmed down, she mentally cursed herself for being such a wimp. It couldn't be that bad, could it? "I'm fine," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Are we done here, 'cause I'm about ready to leave." She tried to pull herself to her feet.

Sam held her down. "Don't move. You're only making it bleed more."

For the first time, Alex looked. Then she closed her eyes. A huge gash in her left side trailed down from her ribs, curling to her hips. Her jeans were torn and bloodied, with another large gash stretching past her knee. Blood flowed freely. Dean immediately put his hand over her side. "You're going to have to hold your guts in until we get to the motel." Dean tried to make it a joke, but Alex just groaned. The next thing she knew Dean was holding her in her arms, carrying her down the stairs. He put her in the backseat before getting into the driver's side. Sam got in next to her, applying pressure to her wound, and they drove away.

 

 **T** hey were back at the motel within ten minutes. Dean helped her inside, laying her on the bed. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom to absorb the blood. Sam hurried in as well. He sat down next to her. "Take off your shirt," he commanded her. Alex did as he said before laying back down on her right side. She let out a cry of pain as something was poured over her. It stung like hell. "This'll stop any infection."

Dean sat down next to her. "Ah. Looking better already," he promised.

"Shut up." Alex hissed as something poked her skin. "Ouch! Watch it!"

"You're such a wimp." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Shut up."

 

 **A** lex laid there as Sam slowly but surely stitched her up, teeth clenched in pain. Dean took her hand, watching his brother. "That's a nasty one," he remarked casually.

"Thanks," Alex hissed out.

"Don't move," Sam scolded. "There." He finally finished. "Looks like you'll live."

"Don't sound so disappointed," Alex huffed, rolling onto her back. She ran her fingers over the stitches. "What is this?"

"Fishing line."

"Ah."

"Just stay still. You lost a lot of blood." Sam tossed her a bottle of whiskey. "Don't drink too much," he warned. "Those stitches won't do you any good if you start vomiting."

"Hm." Alex propped her head up on a pillow. "Wonderful." Then she flicked on the tv.

Sam walked to the front of the motel room, motioning Dean to follow. He did. "What are we going to do with her?" he asked quietly.

"What'd you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Sam whispered angrily. "She's hurt, Dean. Bad. It's gonna take her a while to recover. We don't have the time to wait for her."

"Oh, so what do you think we should do with her? Just leave her?" Dean's voice rose angrily.

Alex listened intently to their conversation, heart beating. She wasn't hurt that bad, was she?

"I'm just saying . . . maybe we should leave her at Bobby's. He can take care of her while she recovers."

"And when she's better?" When Sam said nothing, Dean continued. "You just want to get rid of her, don't you?"

"That's not . . ." Sam paused. "I mean, it was better when it was just the two of us, you know? We didn't have to worry about her--"

"She's not just a dead weight, Sam," Dean snapped. "She knows what's going on. We have to protect her, okay? There are people out there who would love to get their hands on her. Like Zachariah? Hm?"

Sam just shook his head.

"Fine," Dean relented. "We'll drop her off at Bobby's. That's a good idea. But we're not abandoning her, you understand?"

 

 **S** he was back at Bobby's within a few days. When she stepped through the front door, Dean behind her, Bobby came barreling into the room. "The hell did you do to her?" he snapped.

"I'm fine," Alex insisted. She limped further into the house, the stitches on her leg tugging uncomfortably on her skin.

"Werewolf," Dean explained. "It's a nasty cut, but she'll live." He nudged Alex towards the kitchen. "Go sit down."

"I'm fine, Dean," Alex repeated. However, her legs were shaking slightly, and she did as he asked.

"You boys have to be careful with her!" Bobby seemed very much ticked off.

"It was an accident." Alex heard a thump as Sam dropped her bag on the ground. She sat on the couch, looking around. Open books lay everywhere, and Alex sighed at the mess.

"We should go," Dean said. "There's a possible case over in Sacramento."

Alex heard them leave. She stood up and walked over to the fridge, pulling out a coke. "Hey, Bobby. How you doing?"

"Fine." Bobby glanced at her. "What happened?"

Alex shrugged. "I got the wrong end of a werewolf."

"Bad?"

"Tis but a scratch," she joked. Seeing Bobby's reaction, she sighed, lifting the side of her shirt to show off Sam's patchwork. "Before you say anything, it's fine. It's just a flesh wound." He put her shirt back down. "Also got my leg torn up, but I'll live. Did I miss anything?"

"No." Bobby walked into the study. "But, uh, don't go into the closet under the stairs. I haven't finished stabilizing the floor."

Alex frowned. The hell was he talking about? She walked over to the closet door, tugging it open. "Bobby." She shook her head in disbelief and amazement. "When are we ever going to need a trap door?"

"I got bored," Bobby called back. "Like I said. Stay back."

"Yeah." Alex looked down through the trap doors that were hanging open, letting her see into the basement below. "Damn."

 


	22. Jump the Shark

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**I** t was more than a two months after the accident. Bobby had been fairly worried, but she had recovered well, and by the end of week two, her movements were almost completely back to normal, and Bobby had taken out the fishing-line stitching, which had admittedly stung very much.

Sam and Dean didn't stopped by during those whole two months, so Alex was stuck there. Once she was back on her feet, she'd walk down block to the grassy hill. There she'd sit there for hours, staring up at the sky.

One time, when she was sitting by herself, Castiel appeared. Alex looked up. "Oh, hey Cas. Uh, what's up?"

"Nothing." Castiel looked down at her. "Where are Sam and Dean?"

Alex shrugged. "Dunno. Hunting, I suppose."

"And you're not with them?" The angel tipped his head to one side.

"No. I got hurt, so I've been on the sidelines the past couple weeks." Alex shrugged.

Castiel sat down beside her. "What happened?"

"Werewolf." Alex lifted her shirt to show him the scar that ran from her ribs down to her hip.

Castiel frowned. He reached out, running rough fingers over it. "I'm sorry."

Alex felt a slight warmth trickle through her side, and she pushed Castiel away. "Dude, seriously? Don't waste your mojo on me. I'm gonna live."

Castiel tipped his head in confusion, but politely dropped his hand. Satisfied, Alex turned her gaze back out over the field, watching the clouds in the sky.

"What are you doing?"

Alex shrugged. "I come here everyday. I just sit here thinking."

"Hm."

"What are you doing here?" Alex finally asked. "I thought you'd be busy."

Castiel shook his head. "I was sitting quietly in a park. Nothing more." They lapsed into silence.

 

 **O** ne morning, Alex was awoken by a knock on her bedroom door. "Get up," she heard Bobby say.

"What do you want?" she groaned, rolling to her feet.

"Dean called." Alex heard retreating footsteps, telling her that Bobby had disappeared back downstairs.

Alex stumbled out of bed and made her way downstairs, wincing at the cold wooden floors. She stepped into the study to see her phone sitting on the desk. She picked it up. One missed call. Dean. She called him. He answered. "Hello?"

"Dean-o."

"Alex. Good. Why didn't you answer?"

"I was asleep." Alex rolled her eyes. "What's up?"

"Have you ever heard of Adam Milligan?"

"Maybe." Alex shrugged. "Who's he?"

"Uh, I don't know. He, uh, he claims that he's John Winchester's son."

"Oh." Alex let out a breath. "Yes, I do know of an Adam."

"And, uh, is he our, uh, brother?"

"As far as I know, probably. The show doesn't specifically say either way," Alex lied.

"We'll be there in a few hours." Then Dean hung up, voice tense.

Alex sighed, deciding to eat breakfast.

"What'd Dean want?" Bobby was sitting in the kitchen, flipping through an old book. "He and Sam okay?"

"Yeah, they're fine." Alex sank into the chair across from him. "Are those two always that rude, or is it just me?"

Bobby glanced up for half a second. "Rude?" he repeated. "They're hunters. You don't stay alive by singin' kumbaya."

Alex huffed. "Yeah, I guess not."

Seeing the girl's silence, Bobby added, "Listen. I know they seem a little more abrasive than most people, but that doesn't mean they don't like you, alright? They just got different ways of showing it."

Alex smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Bobby."

"Yup." The old hunter picked up his book and walked away. Alex watched him go, shaking her head. That guy was strange, but somehow always knew what to say. She got up to make breakfast.

 

 **I** t was ten o'clock when Sam and Dean pulled up in the ever familiar black Impala. They came in through the back door, exchanged greetings with Bobby, then grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

"So Adam called you?" Alex asked after they had settled down in the study.

"He called one of dad's cells," Dean explained.

"Hm," Alex mused. "Obviously."

"So what do we do?" Sam looked up from his laptop, which had been demanding his attention for the past several minutes.

Alex turned to look at Sam, blinking slowly. "We should go see him."

"We can't go see him," Dean snapped. "It's a trap."

"I don't think it's a trap."

"It's a trap."

"Dean, it's not a trap. As far as I can remember, this guy's legit."

"She's right, Dean," Sam nodded. "I've been checking him out." He motioned to his laptop. "This guy is 'legit'."

"Fine." Dean sighed, then pulled out a cellphone. He stood up and left the room. A few seconds later, she heard him talking to someone. Several minutes later, he returned. "I called Adam. He lives in Windom, Minnesota, and we're to meet him at the Cousin Oliver's Hilltop Cafe."

 

**October 10th, 2009**

**Windom, Minnesota**

**A** lex grabbed her packed bag, and they were off. It was a two hour drive to Windom. They checked into a motel and arrived at the diner just in time for lunch. Dean parked the car, and they got out. "Dean, as best as I can tell, Adam Milligan is real," Sam argued, opening the folder he had compiled while still at Bobby's.

Dean didn't respond, but circled back to the trunk. He opened the weapon's box, pawing through everything.

"Um, born September 29, 1990, to Kate Milligan. No father listed on the birth certificate. He's an Eagle Scout. Graduated from high school with honors and currently goes to University of Wisconsin. Biology major, pre med."

Alex watched Dean pull several items out. He put them in his jacket, then closed the trunk.

"Dean, are you even listening?"

"This is a trap," Dean said decisively. He walked off towards the diner. Alex and Sam exchanged glances, and Sam sighed, closing the folder. They followed.

They entered the diner, and Dean paused, looking around. He led them over to the left corner where there was a table with four chairs. He and Sam sat on one side. Alex groaned. "Great. So I get to sit on the side with the monster. Thanks a lot."

"He's not a monster," Sam retorted. "The kid checks out."

Alex sat down on the inner chair. "I know Sammy. Adam Milligan is real."

Dean ignored them. "Great. So he's an actual person on planet Earth. Too bad he's got a demon in him." Alex just rolled her eyes.

A waitress approached their table, carrying waters and menus. "Hi. Welcome to Cousin Oliver's Hilltop Cafe."

"Thanks."

"Can I--"

"We're actually waiting on someone," Dean cut her off.

The waitress paused, her face growing annoyed. She slapped down the menus in front of them and stalked off into the back.

"Thanks," Alex muttered after her. Sam slapped down his menu again in frustration. Alex watched as Dean took his glass of water and proceeded to pour it into the plant behind it. "That's a fake plant--"

"What are you--" Sam said at the same time.

Dean put the glass on his lap.

"Holy water." Sam nodded.

"Yup." Dean put the glass back on the table at the empty spot. "One sip of Jesus juice, this evil bitch is going to be in a world of hurt."

The waitress walked past, and they lowered their voices. Then she was gone. Dean pulled something out of his jacket.

"And what is he's not possessed?"

"Then he's a shapeshifter." Dean took the silverware from the empty spot and replaced it with his own set.

"Hence the silver," Sam sighed.

"We have silver silverware in the trunk?" Alex asked. "Didn't know that one. And you still make me use plastic forks."

Dean ignored her. "Look. Either way, this thing is going to bleed. I mean, using Dad as bait? That's the last mistake of its short, pitiful life." Dean looked over at Sam to see him frowning. "What?" Sam looked away, and Dean repeated himself. "What?"

"Dean, listen." Sam opened the brown leather journal he had brought in with him. Alex knew it was John Winchester's. "There's an entry in Dad's journal." He flipped through several pages. "From January 1990, saying he's headed to Minnesota to check out a case. That's roughly, oh, nine months before the kid was born."

"Coincidence," Dean huffed.

"Coincidence," Sam repeated unbelievingly. "Next two pages of the journal? Torn out." He motioned to where the remains of two pages were in the journal.

"Look, you're not actually buying into this, are you?"

"Look man, I'm not saying I want to believe it either. I'm just saying it's possible." Sam waved the journal for emphasis. Alex nodded in agreement, and he continued. "I mean, Dad would be gone for weeks at at time, and he wasn't exactly a monk. I mean, a hunter rolls into town, kills a monster, saves a girl . . . sometimes the girl is grateful."

"Great," Dean snapped. "Now you've got me thinking about Dad sex. Stop talking." Alex snickered in amusement.

"Maybe he slipped one past the goalie," Sam added.

Dean roughly nudged his brother. "Dude!"

The door opened, causing all three to look up. A young man had walked into the cafe, no more then twenty years of age. He was wearing a large tan jacket over a black t-shirt.

"Adam?" Sam asked. The man turned, and Alex studied his face. Messy brown hair covered his blue eyes, which nervously flickered over them.

He approached. "Are you Sam?"

"Yeah. This is Dean, and that's Alex." Sam pointed to each of them in turn. Alex smiled.

"Hey." Adam set his black backpack on the floor and sat down next to Alex. "So, um, how did you know my dad?" he asked nervously. The door chimed again, and Alex glanced back to see an old man enter.

"Uh, we worked together," Sam partially lied.

"How did he die?" Adam's face was one of slight confusion and curiosity.

"On the job."

"He was a mechanic, right?" Adam glanced over at Dean.

"A car fell on him," Dean said shortly. Alex held back a chuckle at the thought.

The waitress approached again. This time Alex noticed her name tag said Denise. "Hey Adam," she smiled. "How are you doing?" She put a glass of water in front of him.

Adam reached for it, but Dean grabbed it first. "Oh, I'll take that," he said. "I"m very thirsty." He took a sip. Sam frowned at him, and Denise looked very much displeased.

She turned back to Adam. "The usual, Adam?"

"Uh, yeah. Thanks Denise." Adam watched her leave, then took the glass of water filled with holy water. He took a sip. Nothing happened. Dean let out a frustrated breath.

"So, uh, when's the last time you saw John?" Sam asked.

"I don't even know. It's -- a couple years."

"Why did you decide to call him now?"

"I didn't know who else to call," Adam admitted. "He's the only family I got. My mom's missing," he explained when Sam didn't appear to follow.

"Really? I'm sorry. For how long?"

"It's tragic, really," Dean agreed. "But, uh, if you're John's kid, how come we've never heard of you?"

"Cause John and me didn't really know each other. Not until a few years ago, anyways."

"What do you mean?"

"My mom never talked about him. I knew some stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"My mom's a nurse, and Dad came into the ER pretty torn up. Hunting accident or something, And I knew his name. John Winchester. That's about it. We're not exactly a nuclear family."

"Yeah, well, who is these days?" Sam sighed.

"So, when, uh, when did you finally meet him?" Dean asked, voice tense.

"When I was twelve. My mom had one of his old numbers, and after I begged her -- God, I begged her twenty-four-seven -- she finally called him. God, when John heard he had a son, he raced to town. I mean, he dropped everything. He drove all night." Adam seemed genuinely happy.

Alex's heart twisted when she saw Sam and Dean. The weren't showing it, but she could see the pain behind their faces.

Denise returned, putting down a salad in front of Adam. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

"Well, that's . . . heartwarming," Dean said with false sweetness.

Adam nodded. He pointed to his food. "You mind?"

"Please. Dig in."

Adam removed the napkin from underneath the silverware without even touching it, and Alex heard the quiet, yet familiar sound of a gun being cocked. She tensed, looking over at Dean. His hands were under the table.

"He would swing by every year or so," Adam continued, unaware of the gun beneath the table. He picked up the knife and fork. Alex let out a quiet breath. He wasn't a shifter either. Dean glanced away, his shoulders relaxing.

"You know, he called when he could. But still . . ." Adam took a bite. "He taught me poker and pool and even bought me my first beer when I was fifteen. And, uh . . . he showed me how to drive. He had this beautiful '67 Impala--"

"Oh, this is crap, "Dean snapped. "You know what, you're lying."

"No I'm not." Adam seemed shocked by his outburst.

"Yes, you are."

"I'm sorry, but you the hell are you to call me a liar?"

"We're John Winchester's sons, that's who." Dean said, motioning to himself and Sam. "We are his sons."

"Oh my god," Adam breathed out. "I have brothers." He turned to Alex. "Are you my sister?"

"No. Nope. Not related." Alex shook her head.

"You don't have brothers," Dean snapped. "Look man, I don't know if your a hunter or what kind of game you're playing here . . ."

"I've never been hunting in my life." Adam seemed puzzled.

"Whatever. I'm out of here. Come on, Sam." Dean stood up to leave.

"Wait!" Adam stopped them. "I can prove it."

"Can you now?" Dean turned back to face him. "Fine. You do that."

"Follow me." Adam led them out of the diner and into the parking lot. He passed the Impala and hesitated.

"Don't touch my car," Dean growled, stepping in between them.

Adam looked up at Dean, but did as he said. He got into his Ford truck and drove away.

The three of them got into the Impala and followed.

 

 **T** hey drove for five minutes before Adam pulled into a small, two story blue house. Dean parked on the street, and they got out. Adam ushered them inside, and disappeared into the living room. He came back holding a picture frame. "Here. This was when John took me to a baseball game." He handed it to Dean. Sam looked over at it.

"He took you to a baseball game?" Dean asked. Alex studied it. She recognized John; he was wearing a baseball cap, arm around a young boy who Alex realized was a younger Adam.

"Yeah. When I turned fourteen. Dad was around for a few of my birthdays."

Sam opened John's journal, flipping through a few of the pages. "September 29, 2004. One word. 'Minnesota'."

"He took you to a freakin' baseball game?" Dean repeated quietly.

"Yeah. What'd Dad with you for your birthdays?" Adam took back the picture and turned around.

"Oh . . ." Dean left it at that, voice starting to shake. Alex leaned against Dean shoulder, offering slight comfort in her touch. She sighed.

"Adam, you said you called Dad because your mom's missing?" Sam changed the subject.

"Yeah."

"How long has she been gone?"

"Three days."

"Who was the last person to see her?" Dean asked.

"Mr. Abbernard, our neighbor. He saw her come home Tuesday night, but never showed up to work on Wednesday."

"Did you call the police?" Alex asked.

"Mom's superior at the hospital did. And then I drove down here as fast as I could." He paused. "I should have been here."

"What'd, uh, what'd the cops say?"

"That they'd, they'd searched the house. They didn't find anything." He paused again. "She wouldn't just leave without telling anybody. It's like she just dropped off the face of the Earth, you know?"

Sam nodded sympathetically. "Was there anything strange? Out of place?"

"The, uh, the nightstand in her room was knocked over." Adam turned and walked deeper into the house. "I'll show you." He led them up the stairs and down the hall, and then into the master bedroom. Alex and Dean immediately began looking around.

"Hey, do you have a computer?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Downstairs."

Sam nodded, and left.

Dean shifted the dresser. Finding nothing, he turned back to Adam, who was sitting on the bed. "The nightstand was knocked over," Dean repeated. "Anything else?"

"Oh, not really. The sheriff said there was no sign of a break-in." He watched Dean glance around. "What, do you think the cops missed something?"

"Maybe, yeah," Dean nodded. "They don't have my eyes."

"You're a mechanic."

"Yeah, that's right."

Adam sat quietly, then asked, "Dean, what else can you tell me about Dad?

"You knew him." Dean made no eye contact.

"Not as well as you."

"Trust me, kid, you don't want to know."

Sam entered, holding up a handful of papers, and Dean paused. "Give us a minute." He left the room, and Alex followed.

"You talk to the cops?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yeah. Like Adam said, no leads on his mom."

"Shocker there."

"But I did find this." Sam handed him a piece of paper. It was a a copy of the local paper from 1990. It's title was _Missing Bodies Found _.__ "Here. In 1990, there were seventeen grave robberies in Windom."

"You think that's why Dad came up here?"

"I'd say so. Check it out."

Dean took the paper, and Sam pointed to the picture that accompanied the article.

"All right, so he was hunting something."

Alex squinted at the picture. One of the people did look like John Winchester.

"But what?" Dean continued.

"No idea. Those were the pages torn out of the journal. But last month, the body snatching started up again. Three bodies from the local cemetery."

"So whatever he was after didn't die. It's back."

"And what, it's stepped up it's game to fresh meat? I mean, Kate's missing, and uh . . ." Sam handed them another paper. "So is a local bartender. A guy named Joe Barton." Dean took the photo and went back into the bedroom.

Sam started to follow, but Alex stopped him. "Body snatching? Sounds like a ghoul, right?"

Sam nodded. "I guess, but ghouls don't eat living victims. They're scavengers. I'd say we're probably dealing with something else."

"Hm." Alex let him go back into the room.

"Uh, I don't think so," Adam was saying. "Why?"

Dean didn't respond, but glanced back at Sam, then down at the floor. He stopped. Suddenly he knelt down examining it for a closer look.

"What is it?" Adam asked, following his gaze.

"Watch out." Dean started moving the bed, and Adam got up. He threw back the comforter to look under the bed, then straightened up. "Help me with the bed."

Sam hurried over, and they dragged the bed away from the wall. On the wall, there was a large vent, large enough for a small person to get through.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, and Dean held up his fists for a quick match of rock-paper-scissors. Sam shook his head. "Alex can do it. She's small enough."

"What?" Alex snapped. "I'm not going in there! No damn way."

"Too bad." Dean tossed her a flashlight. "Go get 'em tiger."

Alex mumbled curses against them under her breath, but got down, pulling the vent covering away. She pulled out her gun and crawled in. "I hate small spaces," she hissed. There was enough room for her to army crawl comfortably. She quickly realized there were bloodstains on the metal. "Shit," she hissed, forcing herself to go deeper. The bloodstains continued until she reached a T-junction. She peered around the right corner, gun cocked. Nothing. She quickly turned to her left, and her blood ran cold. Blood pooled on the metal, and there were chunks of flesh and bone, and what Alex realized was part of a scalp. "Nope nope nope nope nope." She crawled backwards as fast as she can until she felt hands on her ankles. She panicked and struggled.

"Relax," Sam's voice reached her ears. "It's just us." They pulled her out of the vent.

"I need to grow. At least a foot. Dammit, guys. If you ever make me do that again . . ." She leaned against the wall, catching her breath before continuing to ramble. "I mean, being in such a small space is one thing, but the blood and bone crap? Uh-uh. Nope."

"You saw something?" Sam knelt down beside her.

"There's uh, lots of blood. And uh, flesh and bone. Definitely human." She met Sam's brown gaze. "I freakin' hate this job."

"She's fine," Sam rolled his eyes, standing back up. Dean helped her to her feet.

"Okay, okay. I'm fine. I, uh, I think I know what we're dealing with."

"Okay, what?"

"Not now. I'm, uh, not sure yet. I'll share later." Alex started walking towards the door. "Can we go back to the motel yet?" Sam and Dean didn't answer immediately, so Alex continued. "Whatever. I'll be in the car."

She walked out there and sat down on the hood, breathing deeply. She started sorting through her thoughts. "This is an episode," she muttered under her breath. "Adam is real. But he's dead. Is he dead now? I think so. Ghouls. Two of them. They wanted to kill John, but he's already dead, so they're going after Sam and Dean. And probably me too." She quickly drew her feet up off of the ground. "Okay. Should I tell Sam and Dean? There's two of them. The other won't show until it's time. When Sam's at the house by himself. Right. That's when they attack. At night. Tonight or tomorrow? After that?"

She stopped talking when Sam and Dean emerged from the house. Dean shot her a warning glance, and she put her feet back down. They got into the car and drove back to the motel.

"Do you want to share now?" Dean asked her.

"Maybe." Alex stared out the window.

"Listen. If you're still sore about having to crawl into that vent--"

"It's fine, Dean. What's a little more nightmares between friends, eh?" Alex turned back to them. She leaned between them. "I'll tell you what I think, but you have to promise not to tell Adam, capisce? We're dealing with ghouls. Two of them. Children of the ghoul your dad offed in 1990. Kate's dead, and so is Adam."

Both Sam and Dean uttered exclamations of surprise. "What?"

"They can take the appearance of their last victim, right? It's revenge, plain and simple. Kate and Adam are dead. They called up John, but were too late. So what better than his two sons, hmm? All I know is they try and kill Sam when Dean goes back to this cemetery. Now you guys got to act like you don't know squat. 'Adam' can't know we know. And we can't kill him the next time we see him. We need to get both of them at the same time."

Neither Sam and Dean immediately answered. "You sure about this?"

"Pretty confident, yeah," Alex hesitated only for a second. "Is there anyway to test them without having to blow their brains out?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Nothing inconspicuous. Sorry."

"Okay. Then we'll just have to go with my memory here." Alex sighed. "Let's give it a while. Maybe something will become obvious." She fell silent for a few seconds. "Just, pretend this conversation never happened, okay?"

"Okay."

 

 **T** hey arrived back at the motel in the next five minutes. Alex walked over to the bed and sat down, flicking on the tv. Dean sat beside her, cleaning his shotgun. "What'd you think?" he asked his brother.

"About this guy being a ghoul?" Sam let out a snort. He sat down at the table, pulling out his laptop. "It's possible, I guess. I mean, when has Alex been wrong?"

"Yeah, but she's never remembered anything this early along," Dean reminded him. "Usually she waits till near the end when she's completely sure. Besides, she admitted she's not totally sure herself."

Sam grunted in agreement, and Alex finally turned her head to look at them. "I am right here, you know. And I can hear you."

"We're just stating the facts," Dean said. "It's true, isn't it. You're not sure?"

"Not one hundred per cent. But close." Alex swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. "Next time we see Adam, we'll tell him we think the monster's coming for him, okay? We'll go to his house at night and pretend to wait for it." The idea's were flowing now, and Alex kept talking. "Then me 'n Dean will say we hear something, and we'll go look outside. The ghouls will attack when Sam's on his own--"

"Wait wait wait." Sam stopped her. "Why do I have to be the bait?"

"Because the ghouls want to kill the both of you," Alex replied simply.

"And how do we stop me from being killed?"

Alex thought for a second. "Have a text message ready to send. When they reveal themselves to be ghouls, send it, and we'll come running back in. Two head shots, done. Case closed."

Sam and Dean sat silently for a few seconds. "And if you're wrong and he's not a ghoul?"

"Then nothing happens. The night passes, and we regroup the next day. Come on, guys. It's worth a shot."

Dean nodded, and Sam glanced at him. "Dean . . ."

"She's right, Sam. It's worth a shot. If she's right, and we can stop them now, that's what we're gonna do."

"Okay. So what if Adam turns up here?" Sam asked. "What do we do?"

"We tell him what he want's to know. If he asks who we are, we say hunters. Keep his trust. He asks if we know what killed his mom, we say no. Okay?"

Sam nodded.

"That's your plan?" Dean scoffed. "Tell him we're hunters? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."  
"She's got a point, Dean." Sam insisted. "We have to get his trust. Until then, I'll see what I can find on Joe Barton. Maybe there'll be something to support Alex's idea."

 

 **W** ithin the next twenty minutes, there was a knock on the door. Sam got up and opened it. "Who the hell are you?" Adam pushed his way into the room.

"Adam. Hey." Sam glanced back at Dean and Alex before closing the door. "Take it easy." Dean quickly pulled the bed covered over his shotgun, hiding it from view.

"No, don't tell me to take it easy, okay? My house is a crime scene, my mom's probably dead, and you three -- well, you told me to call the cops, but you got to bail before they show?" Adam turned so he was facing all three. "So. Who are you really?" When no one said anything, he continued. "Those cops didn't know where to look for my mom, Dean, but you did. And I heard you talking earlier -- something about grave robberies." Still nothing. Adam turned, his eye spotting the barrel of Dean's shotgun peeking out from under the covers. "You're not mechanics. I just want to know what's going on." Still no response. "Please."

Sam finally sighed. "We're hunters."

"Sammy!" Dean snapped.

"He deserves to know, Dean."

Dean just shook his head.

"What do you mean, 'hunters'?" Adam looked quizzically at the three of them.

"Listen." Sam sat down on the edge of the bed. "We hunt creatures."

"Monsters," Alex clarified. "Ghosts, goblins, ghouls, vamps. Stuff like that."

"Demons," Dean added. "Lots of ugly-ass demons."

"T-They're real?"

"Yeah. All over the place. And we hunt them." Dean pulled his shotgun out from under the sheets, tossing it up near the pillows.

"Okay, so basically what you're saying is that every movie monster, every nightmare I've ever had -- that's all real?"

"Godzilla's just a movie," Dean offered helpfully.

"We hunt them." Sam ignored his brother. "And so did Dad."

Adam nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" Dean huffed. "That's it?"

"What am I suppose to say?"

"That we're liars, that we're crazy. Nobody just says, 'okay'."

"Well, you're my brothers. You're telling me the truth, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I believe you. Now, what took my mom?"

"We're not sure," Sam said slowly. "Something's in town stealing bodies, living and dead, but we don't know what."

"There's a long list of freaks that that fit the bill," Dean added.

"You think maybe she might still be alive?" Adam asked Dean hopefully. Dean didn't meet his gaze. Adam turned to Sam, who looked down as well. "Oh. How can I help?"

"You can't."

"This thing killed my mom. If you're hunting it, then I want in."

"No." Dean shook his head stubbornly.

"Dean," Sam protested, "Look, maybe--"

"Maybe what?"

"He lost his mother. Maybe we can understand what that feels like."

"Why do you think Dad never told us about this kid, Sam? Huh? Why do you think he ripped out his pages?"

"Because--"

"Because he was protecting him!"

"Dad's dead, Dean," Sam said quietly.

"That doesn't matter! He didn't want Adam to have our lives, okay? And we're going to respect his wishes."

"Do I get a say in this?" Adam finally asked.

"No!" Both Sam and Dean said at the same time.

Alex let out a frustrated breath. "Why do you two always have to fight?" she snapped.

"Shut up!" Dean glared at her, and Alex closed her mouth, eyes smothering. Dean spun around and walked towards the door. "Babysit the kids," he muttered to his brother.

"I am not a kid!" Alex stood up. Dean slammed the door behind him. Alex huffed. "I'm going for a walk," she hissed through clenched teeth. Then she left. She pulled her jacket tighter around her waist, walking down the street. The October wind was stinging. She saw the Impala drive off down the street, and she let out another breath. Why did they have to always be so difficult?

"Hey Cas," she began. "How's it going up there? Not too difficult I suppose." She paused. "Sorry, sorry. You're probably busy. It's just . . . never mind. It's not important to you."

"What's not important to me?"

Alex turned around, a small smile forming across her face. She was getting use to the angel dropping in all the time. "It's nothing. Sorry to disturb you."

"It's . . . no problem. I was looking for an excuse to get away." Castiel looked her up and down. "Two of the angels in my garrison have the unfortunate habit of always fighting with each other."

Despite herself, Alex laughed. "I know how it feels. Sam and Dean just got in a fight as well. Dean went off someplace on his own."

"It wasn't about you, was it?" Castiel tipped his head to one side. "I know they argue about you a lot."

"Really?" Alex blinked in surprise. "Uh, that's not good, I suppose. What do they argue about?"

"I thought you knew."

"Nope."

"Then it is not my business to say." Castiel looked up at the sky, a frown across his face. "I must go, although I would much rather stay and talk." Then he was gone.

"Okie-dokie then. Have a good day."

 

 **S** he walked around for several hours before the cold drove her back in. Sam was sitting next to Adam, holding a gun. He grunted a hello, and Alex waved back. "Shower," she told them, heading off to the bathroom. She added with a glance at the clock, "Then dinner."

 

 **A** fter a long, warm shower, Alex returned to the main room. She frowned. "You ordered pizza without me?"

"Relax. There's enough left for two of you."

Alex picked up a slice, grumbling. It was still warm, and she took a bite before sitting down on the bed. "Whatcha doing?"

"I'm showing Adam how to use a gun," Sam replied, not bothering to look up.

Alex paused. "Okie-dokie." She flipped on the tv. "I'll just do my own thing over here."

"Then go do something quieter," Sam snapped. "That's distracting."

"That's distracting," Alex mimicked him, getting up and turning it off. She reached past Adam and grabbed her necklace off of the nightstand.

"Is that yours?" Adam asked quietly. When Alex nodded, he added, "It's nice. Does that symbol mean anything?"

"Yeah, it's a anti-possession charm." Alex slipped it over her neck. "Keeps the demons out." She paused, fingering the angel wing pendant. "This one's from my mom," she murmured. "It came in a matching set. She . . . she was buried with the other one."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Adam looked away.

Alex quietly walked over to Dean's bag, pulling out his computer and shaking off the memories. She sat down at the table before turning it on. She waited. Soon the login screen came up. Alex typed in Dean's password. Impala1979.

She connected with the internet and logged in onto supernaturalfancentral.com. Then she logged into her account: not-actually-a-winchester. She had several notices in her inbox. She checked them out. She had become pretty well known among the fans for her ability to answer the questions they might have. There were several crap questions that she gave crap answers to, then got bored.

She looked at the clock. Eight pm already? Damn. "Sam," she whined. "I'm bored."

"Shut up."

Alex looked over at the other Winchester. Adam wasn't on the bed; a quick glance told her that he was in the bathroom. "Sam?" she started, "why are you so mean to me?"

Sam didn't immediately look up. Eventually, he put down his gun. "You let Dean go to hell," he reminded her, voice sharp with pain. "He's changed, you know that? He remembers everything, and you could have stopped it."

Alex let out a long breath. "I wish I could have stopped it," she admitted. "But that would have meant letting you die."

"Better me than him--"

Alex cut him off. "I knew Dean would come back. If you had died, you could have stayed in hell forever."

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but the bathroom door opened, and Adam stepped out. They fell into silence.

 

 **"S** am . . ." It was fifteen minutes later before Adam finally broke the silence. "How did Dad die?"

"Demons."

"You hunted it down, got revenge?" Adam put down the gun he was disassembling.

"Dean killed it."

"So it's over for you."

"It's never over." As Sam spoke those words, the lights suddenly went out. There was a rattling sound, and Alex looked up.

"What the--"

"Sh." Sam silenced him. Alex hurried over to her bed, pulling her gun out from under the pillow. "Stay here." Sam walked over to the door, shotgun cocked. Adam stood up, watching intently. Alex followed the Winchester. He threw open the door, and both raised their guns. The rattling sound moved behind them.

Alex spun around. "Ceiling," she whispered.

"It's in the vents," Sam realized. "Go!" He fired a shot at the ceiling as Adam hurried out. Alex followed, and Sam took up the rear. They hurried down the stairs and into the parking lot.

"Where's your car?" Sam snapped.

"There." Adam pointed to the dark-colored truck.

"All right, keys." Sam held out his hand, and Adam gave them to him. Sam went to the driver's side and Adam circled around to the passenger side. Alex followed Sam. He fumbled with the keys, trying to get the door open. Suddenly he was on the ground and being dragged under the truck.

"Sam!" Alex yelled. She reached down, grabbing Sam's arm. She heard the sound of a car pulling up to a stop.

"Dean, help!" Adam grabbed Sam's other hand, trying to pull the large Winchester out from under the car. Dean grabbed Sam's dropped shotgun and fired two shots. Whatever was holding on to Sam screeched and let go, and Sam scrambled to his feet. Adam fell to the ground, breathing heavily.

Alex patted Sam on the back. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good."

Dean immediately got into the truck and threw it into reverse. It rolled back to reveal a half-open sewer grate. Sam leaned up against Impala, taking deep breaths. Alex carefully approached the grate, shotgun poised. There was blood on the edge of the hole, but no creature was to be seen.

"You hit it," Alex said. "But it's gone. Whatever it is." She turned back to Dean. "Good shot."

Dean shrugged. "I winged it." He looked at Sam. "Did you see anything?"

Sam shook his head. "I didn't get a good look."

"Why -- should we go after it?" Adam suggested, looking down the hole.

"No, no." Dean shook his head. "In that maze?"

"That's suicide," Alex added. "Besides. It's long gone."

"All right. We don't know what it is, but we do know who it's after. Joe Barton, Adam's mom--"

"Adam," Dean added. "It was under his truck, just waiting for him." He glanced at Alex, and she shrugged.

"It set a trap, and I walked right into it." Sam let out a frustrated breath.

"Doesn't matter." Den comforted his little brother. "You're right. There's a pattern. Joe Barton was a cop, and I'm pretty sure he helped out Dad. So we've got him, Dad's girl, and his son."

"All the people Dad knew in town."

"At least we know why it's back."

"It wants revenge." Adam stood up, looking from Sam to Dean. "Now what?"

"Now we set a trap." Alex leaned up against Sam. He shook her off. "Back at Adam's house. That'll be the best place. We wait there for it to come back. And this time we won't mess up."

Both Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. "Sounds like a plan," Dean said slowly. "Uh, Adam, why don't you head back. We need to get some stuff, then we'll meet you there."

"Uh, okay." Adam got into his truck. "Just hurry up." He drove off.

"He didn't seem very scared," Alex remarked.

"You sure this is going to work?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." They got into the car and followed Adam. "Remember the plan? The real one?"

"Yeah. You just told it to us this afternoon." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Don't drive so fast," Alex said. "Give him a chance to tell his sibling."

"Sibling?"

"Yeah. I mentioned that, remember? The two ghouls are the offspring of the ghoul your dad offed? Anyways."

"Whatever it was just tried to grab Adam." However, Dean slowed down to the speed limit.

"Yeah, well, it ended up grabbing Sam."

 

 **T** hey arrived at Adam's house a few minutes later. His car was parked outside, and they got out, looking around. "If whatever it is got Adam, and he's not actually a ghoul, you're dead," Dean whispered, handing Alex a shotgun.

"I'll take my chances."

"Okay, so our plan is what? Just go in there and pretend to play along?"

Alex pulled a thoughtful face, then nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good."

They walked up to the door and knocked. Adam answered. He let them in, and they headed towards the kitchen.

"Okay." Sam took charge. "We're going to salt every door, window, and every vent except for that one upstairs, okay?"

"Okay." Sam and Adam went upstairs, and Dean and Alex salted the downstairs. A few minutes later they joined Sam and Adam upstairs. "This is the only vent unsalted," Sam informed them. They waited.

 

 **A** fter ten or so minutes Alex froze. "I heard something," she whispered.

"Where?" Adam looked around.

"Outside." Alex paused, pretending to listen. "Dean. Let's go check it out. You two stay here, okay?"

Sam nodded, and Alex led Dean outside.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait." Alex raised her gun. "Just, uh, be careful. They may decide to pick us off first."

 

 **I** t was less than a minute later when Dean's phone buzzed. He looked at it. A text from Sam. One word.  _Now_.

"Now." Dean rushed back into the house. There were voices in the kitchen. They ran in, skidding to a stop. There was Adam standing next to a woman, a gun pointing at Sam. A shot rang out, and the woman fell to the ground, head blown off. Alex glanced back to see Dean with his gun raised.

Adam turned to look at Dean, eyes blazing, face splattered with blood. He looked completely inhuman. Alex suppressed a shiver.

"Oh, that's right. We know who you are." Dean raised his gun. Adam dropped the gun and launched himself at Sam.

"I will kill all of you," he snarled, knocking the large hunter to the ground. Dean dropped his gun as well, pulling the ghoul off of his brother. He shoved him across the room. Adam ran at Dean. Then he collapsed. Alex lowered her discharged gun, disgusted at the now-bloodstained walls. Sam staggered back to his feet, bleeding from a wound on his neck. He looked wildly around.

"Let's get out of here," Alex growled. Sam and Dean exchanged a surprised glance. Alex grabbed a dish towel off of the counter and tossed it at Sam; he pressed it against his neck as she hurried out of the house. They followed her out to the car.

"Hey, uh, good work back there," Dean started.

"Whatever." Alex shook her head, throwing her shotgun into the trunk. "Let's just get back to the motel."

 

 **A** lex groaned, looking around the room for he millionth time. Both Sam and Dean were collapsed on the bed, snoring gently. Alex had no idea how they could sleep after that. There were two things she couldn't' do: zombies and ghouls. And, of course, they had just dealt with the latter. Oh, and cannibals. She didn't do cannibals.

She stood up, her legs cramping. 2am. Five hours till the sun came up. Grabbing one of Dean's jackets, she quietly exited the motel room, slipping into the dark of night. The October air was crisp and chill, and Alex shivered slightly. She started to wander, not going anywhere in particular. Stopping, she looked up at the flat roof, an idea formulating in her mind. She smiled to herself before making her way down towards the end of the motel. Looking around, she quietly climbed up onto the dumpster, and from there, onto the roof. She sat down above their room, legs dangling off the edge, leaning back to look up at the clear moon.

"What are you doing?"

Alex jumped slightly at the voice. She looked back. "Uh, hey Cas." She shot him a small smile. "I couldn't sleep."

The angel approached, sitting down close beside her as he normally did. Alex attributed it to his natural lack of personal space. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Alex nodded, returning her gaze to the parking lot below her, and, beyond that, the highway. "Yeah, everything's fine. What brings you around?"

"Nothing." Alex shivered again, and Cas looked over at her. He wordlessly took of his trench coat, putting it across her shoulders. Alex accepted it thankfully, pulling it tightly around her. "We're still trying to stop Lilith."

Alex sighed. "I'm not going to--"

"That's not why I'm here," Castiel cut in. "If you say you can't tell me, then I believe you have a good reason for doing so."

Alex mumbled her thanks, returning her gaze to the stars. "It's hard to believe I've been here for over a year," she murmured.

"Do you miss your old life?" the angel asked quietly.

"Sometimes. I mean, it was horrible, but there were some good parts." She pulled her legs up under her, leaning against the angel's shoulder. He stiffened slightly, but quickly relaxed. He put an arm awkwardly around her, not finding any other comfortable place for it to rest. Alex was thankful for the body heat, and didn't protest. "So, uh, that archangel back with Chuck. Who was it?"

"Remiel. Fifth oldest."

"Ah. Cool." They sat silently for several seconds.

"If you could be any animal, what would you be?" Castiel asked quietly.

Alex pulled a thoughtful face. She had grown accustomed to Castiel's sudden, and apparently random, line of questions. "Probably a tiger," she finally decided. "That would be pretty cool. What about you?"

Castiel sat silently, thinking. "I don't want to be any," he finally admitted.

"You can't say that," Alex teased gently. "That's cheating."

"Fine." The angel furrowed his brow, deep in concentration. "Then I would want to be a dog."

"Hm," Alex nodded. They lapsed back into silence. Finally Alex let out a yawn.

"Yes or no. Would you like to be an angel?"

Alex paused, thinking hard. She looked up to see Cas watching her intently, his blue eyes desperately waiting for an answer. Alex found the question odd, but shrugged it off. He'd asked weirder ones. Finally, she nodded. "Yes. That could be pretty cool."

"Good," Castiel said quietly. Alex was about to respond, but let out a loud yawn instead. Cas looked over at her. "You need to sleep." Before Alex could protest, he gently touched her forehead, and warmth washed over her. Alex fell into a deep sleep.


	23. The Rapture

**November 6th, 2009**

**I** t was almost four weeks later. They had been looking for a case, but there had only been the typical alien sightings and something that could be demon omens. However, there were already several hunters in that area, so they decided to stay clear. One night, Dean woke up with a gasp. Alex looked over at him, slightly concerned. "Bad dream?"

Dean shook his head, sitting up. "Where's Sam?"

"Shower." Alex closed Dean's laptop. "What's up?"

"Cas was in my dream."

"Mm. And . . ."

"And what?"

"And what did Cas want?" Alex looked at the clock. 2am.

"Where's Sam?"

"Shower. You just asked that."

"Right, right. Sorry." Dean rolled out of bed. "Sammy!" He pounded on the bathroom door. "Rise and shine. Then get your ass out here."

"Good morning to you, too," Alex grumbled.

Sam came out of the bathroom, wearing only a pair of boxers. "What?"

"We need to roll. Cas came to me in a dream. He gave me an address a few miles out." Dean threw on a jacket and grabbed his keys. "Come on."

 

 **T** hey arrived outside a warehouse a few minutes later. They flicked on their flashlights, carefully entering. Alex brushed her hand over the gun in her waistband, making sure it was still there. "Well, what did he say, Dean?" Sam finally asked. "What was so important?"

"If I knew, would I be here?" Dean snapped, leading them up a flight of stairs. "Cas said he had something to tell me." He stopped. "What the hell?"

Alex squeezed past him to look around the floor. The metal rafters had collapsed and twisted, and sparks flew ever couple seconds from the exposed wires.

"It looks like a bomb went off," Sam whispered.

"There was a fight here." Dean led them farther into the warehouse, shining his flashlight around.

"Between who?" Sam and Alex followed.

Dean didn't respond. Instead, his flashlight was trained on the wall. "Check it out. Look familiar?"

Alex turned to see what he was looking at. Something was written on the wall. Something large. She quickly recognized it. "Angel banishing sigil."

"Yeah. Like what Anna used."

"So, what? Cas was fighting angels?"

"I don't know." Dean turned back to the tangle of metal. He hurried farther in. Alex followed, flinching as a spark cracked next to her. "Hey. Cas? Cas." Dean suddenly broke into a run. "Cas?"

Alex ran over to find the angel laying on the ground. His eyes were closed, and he looked unconscious.

"What? . . . What? What's going on?" Castiel shook his head, slowly sitting up. Alex stopped. That wasn't Castiel. It didn't sound like him.

"Just take it easy. Take it easy." Dean helped him up.

"Oh no." Castiel rubbed his head.

"Cas? Are you okay?" Sam stopped beside Dean.

"Ugh. Castiel. I'm not Castiel. It's me."

"Who?" Dean looked utterly confused.

But Alex understood. "Jimmy?"

"Yeah." He turned to her. "That's right. Jimmy."

"Where's Castiel?"

Jimmy turned back to Dean. "He's gone."

"Gone?"

Jimmy started to reply, but his legs shook.

"Let's get back to the motel," Alex suggested, moving forward to steady the man.

"Yeah. Good idea." They helped him out and into the car. Then they drove back to the motel.

 

 **T** hey helped him in, and he sat down at the table, dropping his fast food bag on the table. After Jimmy had insisted that he was hungry, Dean had reluctantly swung by a local Biggersons.

"You mind slowing down?" Dean asked dryly, sitting down across from the man. Sam and Alex joined him. "You're gonna give me angina."

"I'm hungry," Jimmy explained, finishing his food.

"When's the last time you ate?"

"Dunno. Months." He took another bite, letting out a pleased noise. Alex shifted her weight impatiently.

"What the hell happened to you back there?" Sam asked. "It looked like an angel battle royale."

"All I remember is a flash of light, and I, uh . . . I woke up and I was, like, me again."

"So what? Cas just ditched out of your meat suit?"

"I don't know."

Dean turned to Alex. "You knew who he was. Care to share?"

"I don't remember how this turns out." Alex narrowed her eyes, deep in concentration. "This is Jimmy Novak. He has a wife and kids. Just one kid. Uh, he's Cas' vessel." She paused. "I don't think Cas ditched, per say, I think he was ejected. Don't take my word for it."

Sam let out a frustrated noise. He turned back to Jimmy. "Do you remember anything about being possessed? Anything at all?"

"Yeah. Bits and pieces. I mean, angel inside you, it's kind of like being chained to a comet." He looked at Alex. "It's Alex, right? I remember seeing you."

"Awesome." Alex nodded. "Being chained to a comet, eh? Doesn't sound like much fun."

"Understatement."

"Jimmy, Cas said he had something important to tell us. Please tell me you remember that."

Jimmy shook his head. "Sorry."

"Come on. What do you know?"

"My name is Jimmy Novak. I'm from Pontiac, Illinois. I have a family." He turned back to his food, starting on his second burger.

"Dean, can I talk to you outside?"

Sam led them out. Alex followed.

"So what do we do?"

"What do you mean? The guy's got a family. We buy him a ticket, we send him home."

Alex shook her head. "Stupid idea."

"Thanks for your opinion," Dean snapped back.

"She's right, Dean. He's the only lead we got."

"He doesn't remember anything."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Alex broke in. "Come on. Think! We want to know what he knows. You know who else? I bet there are some demons who would love to have their hands on an angel vessel, hmm?"

Sam glanced at his brother. "You know she's right."

Dean let out a long breath. "Whatever." He went back inside.

Jimmy looked up at them. "Listen. Thanks for everything, but I really should get going."

Sam shook his head. "Sorry. But you can't go home. You going to have to stay here."

"The hell are you talking about, I can't go home?"

"Because there's a good chance there's a bulls-eye on your back."

"What? From whom?"

"Demons," Alex answered.

Jimmy shook his head unbelievingly. "Come on, that's crazy. What do they want with me?"

"Oh, I don't know. Information, maybe?" It was becoming obvious Dean was losing his patience.

"I don't know anything!"

"I know, but--"

"Look, I'm done, okay? With demons, angels, all of it." Jimmy looked at the door. "I just want to go home."

"I understand," Sam promised.

"No, I don't think you understand." Jimmy turned on Sam, eyes flashing. "I've been shot, and stabbed, and healed, and my body has been dragged all over the Earth. By some miracle, I'm out, and I'm going home. I've given enough, okay?"

Sam let out a sigh. "Look, all we're saying is that until we get this all figured out, the safest place is with us, okay?"

"How long?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Jimmy shook his head and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked.

"To see my wife and daughter, okay?"

"No, you're not." Sam stepped menacingly in front of the man.

"So, what? Now I'm your prisoner?" Jimmy stepped back, eyes smoldering.

"Harsh way to put it." Sam crossed his arms. He glanced at the clock. "Look. Why don't you get some sleep, huh? We'll think this through in the morning."

Jimmy opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again. "Fine," he growled.

Alex looked at the clock. It was past three in the morning. "Good idea. I think we could all do with some rest."

Dean nodded. Jimmy took off his trench coat and folded it, putting it on the table by the door. Then he walked over to the far bed, collapsing on it.

"Sammy, you got first watch." Dean took the other bed. He lay down, staring up at the ceiling. Within a few minutes his eyes were closed.

Alex yawned, and Sam looked over at her. "Why don't you go to sleep too," he suggested. "I'm not tired yet, and I can handle it if anything happens."

Alex nodded sleepily. "Thanks." She headed over to the couch and promptly fell asleep.

 

 **S** he awoke, breathing heavily. She looked wildly around. Sam was sitting at the table, not noticing her. The clock read 4:08. Alex shook her head, trying to clear out the memories of the nightmare. "Bad dream?" Sam didn't even look up.

Alex nodded. She got up. Jimmy was still asleep, which was weird to see since Castiel never slept. He should. It was cute. Alex dismissed the thought immediately. She walked over to Dean's bed and lay down on her side away from him. He stirred groggily. "Bad dream?"

"Mm-hmm." Alex nodded again. Dean let out a sympathetic noise before closing his eyes, falling back asleep. Comforted by the hunter next to her, Alex was able to drift off once again.

 

 **"D** ean!" Sam's urgent voice woke Alex. She sat up, looking around.

"What?" Dean opened his eyes beside her.

"Jimmy's gone."

"What?" Alex sat up as well. Sure enough, the other bed was empty.

"Come on. We got to go find him." Sam hurriedly began packing his bag.

"Hang on." Dean hauled himself out of bed. "Let me go use the bathroom first." Alex watched him go into the bathroom before getting up herself.

"You lost Jimmy?"

"Shut up. He slipped by me."

"His name is _Jimmy_. You let a guy who calls himself _Jimmy_ slip by you."

Sam let out a frustrated noise. "Dean. Would you hurry up?" Dean stepped out of the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth. He let out a laugh, and Sam scowled. "Sorry, uh, this is funny to you?"

"Mr. Big-Bad-Prison-Guard, Jimmy McMook gives you the slip? Yeah, it's pretty funny."

Alex chuckled as well. "Dean, be nice," she chastised him. "It could have happened to any of us. But it would happen to Sammy."

Dean laughed again. "What were you doing, anyways?"

"I was getting a Coke."

Dean paused. "Was is a refreshing Coke?"

Alex laughed.

Sam let out a angry breath. "Can we just go, please?"

Dean went back into the bathroom. He came out a few minutes later and finished packing. They got into the car and drove away.

 

 **A** lex managed to grab another hour of sleep. The sun was beginning to rise, and the sky promised rain. Alex looked around. They were driving through the suburbs. Houses lined the busy street they were driving down. "Did I miss anything?" Alex broke the silence, sitting up.

Dean shook his head. Sam said nothing.

Alex let out a yawn and slid over behind Sam, resting her forehead on the cool glass. There was a flutter of wings, causing her to look up.

"Hey guys."

"Ah!" Dean jumped, and the car swerved into the other lane. "Jeez!" Dean got the car back under control.

Alex sat up, giving the angel Anna more room. "Smooth," the angel commented.

"You ever try calling ahead?" Dean snapped.

"I like the element of surprise."

Dean glanced back at her. "Well, you look terrific."

"Um, yeah, not the most appropriate time, Dean. You let Jimmy get away?"

"Talk to ginormo over here." Dean jerked a thumb at Sam.

"Sam. You look different."

"Me?" Sam seemed surprised. "I don't know. Heh. A haircut?"

Alex snorted. "Yeah right."

"That's not what I'm talking about." Anna cast Sam a glance, and he shied away. Alex narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what passed between them. Anna continued. "So, what'd Jimmy tell you? He remember anything?"

"Why?" Dean turned his head to look at the red-haired angel. "What's going on?"

"Eyes on the road," Alex said quickly. Dean obliged.

"It's Cas," Anna explained. "He got sent back home. Well, more like dragged back."

"To heaven? That's not a good thing?"

"No. That's a bad thing. Painfully, awfully bad. He must have seriously pissed someone off."

Fear for her friend passed through Alex, and she narrowed her eyes worriedly. "That's not good."

Anna nodded in agreement.

"Hm. Well, Cas said he had something to tell me. Something important."

"What?"

"I don't know."

"Does Jimmy know?"

"I don't think so."

"You don't think so?" Anna scoffed. "Whatever it is, it's huge. You got to find out for sure."

"That's why we're going after Jimmy." Sam finally spoke up.

"That's why you shouldn't have let him go in the first place," Anna shot back. "He's probably dead already." Then she was gone.

Alex snorted. "Bitch."

"Hey," Dean said, offended. "Watch it."

"Whatever."

"I'm serious. She's nice."

Alex leaned over the bench seat. "You got a crush?" she teased.

"More than a crush," Sam told her. "They had sex in the backseat."

"Ugh!" Alex pulled a disgusted face. "Gross, man. You know I have to sit back here, right?"

"Whatever." Dean just rolled his eyes, but his blush told her he was slightly embarrassed.

Alex leaned back in her seat. "Nasty," she repeated. "I thought we had a 'no bodily fluids in the car' rule."

Dean shrugged. "So what? It's my car. I can have sex in it if I want."

Alex made another disgusted noise, but didn't rebut him. She crossed her arms, muttering to herself.

"So, uh, where exactly is this guy?"

Alex rolled her eyes, leaning back over the seat. "Well, he's got a wife and daughter, right? So most likely he's heading to them."

"Well, yeah. But how do we find them?"

"Okay. He told us he lives in Pontiac, Illinois, right? And his name is Jimmy Novak. How many Jimmy Novaks can there be in Pontiac?"

Dean grunted, having to admit that she was right. "Fine. Sammy?"

"On it." Sam pulled out his phone. "Damn. No signal. We'll figure it out when we stop for whatever."

"Okay. Until then, Pontiac it is."

 

 **T** hey stopped around three for a large meal. Sam got an address, and then they were back off. They stopped right outside of Pontiac for gas. Sam went inside for food, and Dean was leaning against the car, filling the tank. Alex got out, stretching her cramped limbs. "Stupid driving," she muttered. She glanced in at Sam. He was on the phone, pacing nervously. Alex narrowed her eyes, but didn't point it out. It couldn't be more important than finding Jimmy. Sam came back, and then they were off again.

 

**Pontiac, Illinois**

**I** t was past 9pm when they reached the Novak household. Lights were on, and Dean parked the car. He got out. "I got the knife. Let's go." He crept up to the front door, glancing through the window. Then he ducked. "Demon," he whispered. "Around to the back." He crept around to the back door. Alex and Sam followed.

The back door was unlocked, and they slipped inside. "No!" they heard a woman scream.

"Daddy!" That was a young child. Alex tensed, reaching for her gun. They rounded the corner. a man stood with his back facing them, one arm around what appeared to be a small child.

There was a loud thump, and the sound of punches being thrown. "Oh my god! No!" It was the first woman.

Dean slipped forward, pulling out his knife. He slit the man's throat before anyone could sound the alarm. The man fell to the ground, letting Alex see the whole scene. A blonde woman was standing to her right, eyes filled with fear, and another, smaller woman was on the ground, fists raised. Jimmy lay under her. The smaller woman turned. Her eyes flashed black, and with a snarl, she rushed towards Dean. Then she stopped. Alex glanced back to see Sam's hand stretched out, using his psychic abilities.

"Go!" he yelled. "Get them out of here."

Alex did as he said. Dean nudged the young child towards the door, and Alex helped Jimmy to his feet.

"Go, go!" Alex pushed them out the door. Dean stayed behind. They reached the car door, and Alex looked back, waiting for the Winchesters. Black smoke spiraled up towards the sky, and Dean and Sam ran out. It dipped back down, disappearing.

"Where's your wife?" Dean asked, looking around.

"Right here." The blonde woman appeared, holding a trench coat. She handed it to Jimmy.

"Let's go." Dean got behind the wheel. Sam got in the passenger seat. The three Novak's got in the back. Alex hesitated. "Get in," Dean snapped.

"Where?"

Sam let out a curse, got out, then shoved her into between him and Sam. He slammed the door, and Dean peeled out, driving away.

"Are you okay?" Alex turned around to face Jimmy.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good."

Alex bit back harsh words. "Good. You scared us."

"Excuse me, who exactly are you?" the wife asked.

"Hey. The name's Alex." Alex flashed her a friendly smile. The conversation died.

 

 **T** hey drove and just kept driving. Finally Dean pulled the Impala into a parking garage. He and Sam got out, and Alex and Jimmy did the same. Jimmy's wife and daughter, whose names turned out to be Amelia and Claire, stayed in the back seat.

"Listen," Jimmy began. "You were right."

Dean stuck his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry we were."

"I'm telling you. I don't know anything." Jimmy looked up at the hunters, eyes wide.

Alex sighed. "I doubt the demons will believe you."

"And even if they did, you're a vessel." Sam crossed his arms. "They're still gonna want to know what makes you tick."

"Which means vivisection, if they're feeling generous," Dean added.

"I'm telling you once again, you're putting your family in danger. You have to come with us."

"How long? And don't give me that 'we'll cross that bridge when we get to it' crap."

"Don't you get it?" Sam finally snapped. "Forever. The demons will never stop. You can never be with your family. So either you get as far away from them as possible or you put a bullet in your head. And that's how you keep your family safe. But there's no getting out of it, and there's not going home."

Silence followed his words.

"Well, don't sugarcoat it, Sam," Dean finally said dryly.

"I'm just telling him the truth, Dean. Someone has to."

Dean sighed. "Look. We can get Amelia a car for her and Claire. You can either run off on your own, or you can come with us."

Jimmy closed his eyes, and Alex let out a sympathetic breath. He opened the backdoor and leaned in, speaking in hushed voices with his wife.

Sam walked over to a white Honda, jiggling open the door. He quickly began to hot-wire the car. Jimmy got his family out of the car. He stood silently next to his daughter, a hand on her shoulder.

"Okay, so, uh, here's your car." Sam got out, handing it over to Amelia.

"Hey." Jimmy looked down at his daughter, eyes watering. "Take care of your mom, okay, bub?"

"Okay."

Jimmy kissed the top of her head. Sam and Dean got into the Impala, and Alex followed. Jimmy joined her in the backseat. They drove off, and Alex watched Jimmy glanced back at his family one last time. She silently reached out, placing her hand over his. He just sighed.

 

 **A** s they drove, it started to rain. Jimmy turned to her. "Alex?"

"Yeah?" Alex looked up at the angel's vessel, slightly disconcerted to see him like this.

Jimmy's gaze dropped. "Can, can I ask you a favor. A big one?"

Alex braced herself. "Uh, sure. I guess."

"Can you keep tabs on Amelia and Claire?" Jimmy's voice sounded almost desperate. "I, I don't want them to be hurt."

Alex nodded. "Of course," she promised.

 

 **A** fter a few more minutes, Jimmy's eyelids drooped, and soon he was asleep next to her. Alex yawned, wanting to fall asleep as well. She saw Dean glance back at them, so she feigned sleep. She listened to Dean and Sam talk.

"What the hell happened back there?" Dean asked, his voice low.

"What?"

"You practically fainted trying to gank a demon back there."

"Okay, I didn't faint. I just got a little dizzy."

Alex frowned slightly, confused.

"Well, you can call it whatever you want. Point is, you used to be strong enough to kill Alistair. Now you can't even kill a stunt demon number three?"

"What do you want me to say, Dean?" Sam's voice rose.

"Well, for starters, what's going on with your mojo? I mean, it's yo-yoing all over the place. I'm not trying to pick a fight here, okay? I'm just -- you're scaring me, man."

"I'm scaring myself," Sam quietly admitted. There was silence. Then Sam's cellphone rang. He answered it. "Hello? Who is this?" Sam frowned and turned around. Alex sat up. "It's for Jimmy," Sam said.

Alex shook his awake. Jimmy opened his eyes. "What?"

Sam handed him his phone. "It's your wife."

Jimmy took it. "Amelia?" he asked. Then his face grew dark. "Oh my god." He listened for several more seconds before hanging up. "We have to go back," he told them, his voice full of desperation.

"Go back?" Dean scoffed, glancing back.

"They have my family. _Please_. We have to go back."

Dean spun the wheel. The tires screeched as the car suddenly turned around. "Where are they?"

"They're -- it's a warehouse outside Pontiac." Jimmy's voice was shaking. "They told me I have to come alone."

Dean actually laughed. "Not going to happen. How far away are we?"

"About five minutes."

Dean accelerated, tearing down the road.

 

 **W** ithin five minutes they were pulled up in front of a dark building. They got out. "Alright," Dean began, "they're expecting you to come alone. That's exactly what you're going to do."

"We'll work our way through the catwalks," Sam agreed. "We'll be right behind you."

"All you got to do is stay calm and stall. Let us do our job."

"You want me to stay calm?! That's my family we're talking about!" Jimmy frustratedly pulled on his trench coat.

"Listen to me. This will work. You understand? Nobody's going to get hurt."

"Yeah, whatever. Just give me a minute, okay?"

Dean nodded and started off to circle around the building. Sam followed, and then Alex. "There's no way they're expecting him to come alone, Dean," Sam said quietly. "This is probably a trap." Alex nodded in agreement.

"I know," Dean promised. "That's why I have a plan. Come on." He led them around to the back door. He jiggled it open and stepped inside. "Okay. This way." He led them not up the catwalk, but down the back hallway.

Suddenly rough hands wrapped themselves around Alex's mouth. She tried to scream a warning, but nothing came out. Thinking fast, she stomped her feet really hard. Dean turned around. He reached for the knife, but two more demons appeared behind them.

"Come on," the demons led the three of them down the hall and into a large room.

"Great plan, Dean," Sam snapped.

"Hey. Nobody bats a thousand."

Alex looked around. Amelia was standing to their left, behind her, tied to a chair, sat Clair. Jimmy stood to their right, face blank.

"Got the knife?" Amelia asked.

 _We're so screwed,_ Alex said to herself. _Cas? Castiel? Please. Help us._

As she watched, Claire's eyes flicked up, meeting Alex's. They blinked, then closed again.

Alex knew. _Thank God, Cas. Get us out of here._

"And you know what's funny?" Amelia was saying. But Alex knew it wasn't Amelia. She held back an angry growl.

"You wearing a soccer mom?" Dean guessed, voice sharp with contempt.

"It's I was actually bummed to get this detail, picking up an empty vessel. Sort of like a milk run. Now look who landed in my lap."

"Yeah, well, you got us, okay? Now let these people go."

The demon smiled. "Oh, Sam, it's so easy to act chivalrous when your Wonder Girl powers aren't working, huh? Now for the punch line. Everybody dies." Amelia suddenly pulled out a gun and fired. Jimmy crumpled to the ground, holding his gut.

"No," Alex hissed, trying to free herself of the demon's grip. "You son of a bitch!"

Amelia turned to Alex, the gun aimed at her. "Shut your mouth, or you're next."

"Don't touch her," Claire said, not looking up. Her voice held the faintest trace of a threat.

Amelia laughed. She started to walk away. "Waste Little Orphan Annie," she told the demon holding Alex. Then she left.

The demon let her go and walked past Jimmy over to Claire. Alex stood, not sure what to do to help. As she watched, the demon picked up a metal pipe. He spun it around in his hand. Then swung it at her head. Claire suddenly reached up, blocking it. She placed a hand over the demon's face, and white light poured into him.

Suddenly the whole place was alive. Sam and Dean turned on the demons, tackling them to the ground. Alex hesitated, knowing she wasn't strong enough to take on any of the demons by herself.

"Castiel," she heard Jimmy breathe. She hurried over to him. Jimmy had propped himself up against the wall, hands over his wound.

Alex knelt beside him. "You're going to be fine," she promised, putting a hand over his, helping to stop the bleeding. "If you're not dead by now, you'll live another five minutes." Light flashed as another demon died.

Jimmy just shook his head, knowing her words were empty. Blood welled up in his mouth, and he dropped his hand, letting the blood flow freely. He let out a painful breath.

"Hey, hey." Alex applied pressure to the bullet hole. Warm blood pumped against her hands, but she kept them still. "You're going to be fine. Okay, Jimmy?"

She heard a scream, and turned her head. Sam had just stabbed a demon in the chest. Then he turned around. Alex's heart skipped a beat as she saw the blood that covered his mouth. Dean's face was one of complete horror, and Alex suddenly remembered that Dean hadn't known about the blood. How had she forgotten about the blood? Sam suddenly raised a hand, and Alex saw Amelia stop. Black smoke poured out of her mouth, burning into the ground. Amelia fell to her knees as the smoke sunk into the concrete.

Jimmy let out a wet cough, bringing Alex's attention back to him.

Castiel knelt beside Jimmy. "Of course we keep our promises," she said, running a gentle hand across his hair. "Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well. You're work is done. It's time to go home now. Your real home. You'll rest forever in the fields of the Lord. Rest now, Jimmy." She glanced over at Alex, who stared back, unsure of how she felt with Castiel possessing the young girl.

"No," Jimmy coughed. "Claire . . ."

"She's with me now," Castiel promised. "She's chosen. It's in her blood like it was in yours."

"Please, Castiel," Jimmy begged weakly. "Me . . . just take me. Take me, please." Blood stained his teeth. Alex knew he was dying, and took his hand, trying to blink back tears.

Castiel saw. "I want to make sure you understand," she told Jimmy. "You won't die or age. If you thought this last year was painful, picture a hundred, a thousand more like it."

"It doesn't matter. You take me. Just take me."

Castiel dipped her head. "As you wish." She place a hand on Jimmy's cheek, and white light poured out of his eyes and mouth. Alex shied away at the brightness. Then it faded. Claire collapsed to the ground. Jimmy blinked, and Alex immediately knew it was Castiel. She squeezed his hand, and he turned his head to look at her.

"Hey."

Castiel just nodded his head. He stood up, and Alex did the same. "How are you doing?" she tried again. "You, uh, scared us with this whole 'ditching' crap."

"My apologizes." Castiel walked towards Sam and Dean. Alex followed, slightly unnerved by his coldness. Amelia ran past her to Claire, who was still on the ground. She knelt beside her child, pulling her into a hug. She looked up, and Castiel met her gaze. Then he turned to go.

"Hey, hold up, Cas." Dean stopped him. "What were you going to tell me?"

Castiel turned to face him. "I learned my lesson when I was away, Dean. I serve heaven, I don't serve man, and I definitely don't serve you." Then he walked away.

Alex narrowed her eyes in confusion. He was never that cold to them. "Cas," she called weakly. She hurried after him. He threw open the warehouse door and stepped out into the night. "Cas," she said again.

"What?" Castiel turned to face her, blue eyes indifferent.

"What's wrong?" Alex approached, worry evident on her face. "You're acting weird, man."

"I told you. I learned my lesson."

Alex just shook her head. "What does that even mean? You're just trying to stop the apocalypse like everybody else."

"I obey heaven, Alex. That's my job. I don't obey you, or Dean, or any other human."

"I don't ask you to obey me, Cas. You're my friend."

"Don't you see?" Castiel's eyes finally flashed with emotion. "Being your friend is what got me demoted in the first place."

"Then screw your superiors --"

Castiel shook his head and disappeared.

"Cas?" Alex yelled. "I'm sorry, man. Come back."

The door behind her opened and Dean came out, helping Amelia and Claire. Sam followed behind, head low. "Where's Cas?" Dean looked around.

"I . . . I tried to talk to him. He wouldn't listen. Maybe you should try later."

Dean shook his head. "If he won't even listen to you, there's no way he'll listen to me."

"What?"

Dean just exchanged a glance with Sam. "Never mind. Let's get these people somewhere safe."

"Okay."

"We, uh, we can just take the car," Amelia said quietly.

Sam finally spoke. "I'll go get it started. Where is it?"

"Around back."

Sam nodded and walked off.

"I, um, I have to make a call. Watch them, okay? Keep 'em safe." Dean pulled out his cell and walked a few paces off.

"Okay." Alex turned to Amelia. "How are you doing?"

Amelia looked at Alex. "Since this morning my husband came back, my neighbors were killed, I was possessed by a demon, and Claire was possessed by an angel."

"Fair point," Alex grunted. "Here. Sit down." She patted the hood of the Impala next to her.

"Don't sit on my car," Dean yelled, and Amelia hesitated.

"Ignore him. He doesn't mean it."

Amelia sat down next to her, pulling Claire next to her. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"This. Hunting down demons."

"You get use to it," Alex lied. "I'm more worried about you guys. The demons should leave you alone, but this isn't something you'll forget."

"We'll be fine." Amelia ran her hand comfortingly through her daughter's hair. "Thank you." She hesitated. "Look out for Jimmy, okay?"

"Don't worry. I'll do whatever I can to keep him and Castiel safe." She looked down at Claire. "How are you doing? I assume it wasn't that fun."

Claire shook her head. "No. It hurt." Her mother pulled her closer. "But I could feel all this thoughts. I heard you praying to him. He was worried for you."

"Yeah," Alex sighed. "He's always worried about me. But he needn't be. I can take care of myself." She let out a snort of amusement. "Sometimes I think I have to take care of him too."

Claire didn't respond. Dean came back, and, a few seconds later, so did Sam. "The car's ready."

"Thank you." Amelia stood up.

"You going to be okay?"

"Yes. We'll be fine."

"Okay." Dean pulled her into a comforting hug. "Call us if you have any trouble, okay?" He handed her his number. "Stay safe. Oh, and . . ." he walked around to the trunk and opened it. Everyone followed. He dug through the weapons box and pulled out two small pennants on string. "Keep these on for a month or two. Just to make sure no demons come after you." He handed on to Amelia, and one to Claire.

"What are they?" Amelia studied hers.

"Anti-possession charms. No demon will be able to possess you with these on."

"Thank you." Amelia put an arm around her daughter. "For everything."

"Yeah." Dean watched them walk off before getting in the car. Sam and Alex did the same. They drove off.

 

 **"A** ll right, let's hear it."

Alex looked up. They had been driving for a long time, and this was the first Sam had spoken.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Drop the bomb, man. You know what I did. Come on, stop the car, take a swing."

"I'm not going to take a swing."

"Then scream, chew me out."

"I'm not mad, Sam."

"Come on." Sam shook his head unbelievingly. "You're not mad?"

"Nope."

"Right. Look, at least let me explain myself."

"Don't." Dean stopped him. "I don't care."

"You don't care?"

"What do you want me to say?" Dean finally turned to look his brother. "You want me to say I'm disappointed? 'Yeah, I am. But, mostly, I'm just tired, man. I'm done. I am just done."

They fell into silence. Sam's phone rang. "Hey, Bobby." Pause. "What's going on?" Another, longer pause. Sam hung up.

Dean looked over at him. "What'd he say?"

"We need to get to Bobby's. He says he's got something on the apocalypse."

Dean grunted, and accelerated.

 

 **T** hey drove all night, and by early morning, they reached Bobby's. They got out and walked through the back door. "Bobby?" Dean called.

"Downstairs."

They hurried down. To see Bobby waiting for them.

"Thanks for shaking tail." Bobby led them over to the panic room.

"Yeah, you got it."

Sam opened the panic room door.

"Go inside," Bobby told him. "I want to show you something."

Sam did. However, Bobby and Dean hung back. Alex stepped forward, but Dean held out his arm. Sam turned around to look back at them. "All right. So, uh, what's the big demon problem?"

"You are. This is for your own good." Bobby closed the heavy iron door and locked it tight.

"Guys? Hey, hey! What?" Sam tried to push open the door. He looked out through the small window in the door.

Bobby closed the window and latched it.

"This isn't funny!" Sam yelled. Dean shook his head and started towards the stairs. Alex followed. "Guys!" Sam was still yelling. "Guys!"

They walked up the stairs and into the study. Alex disappeared into her room.


	24. When the Levee Breaks

**November 9th, 2009**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**S** he came back down a few hours later, driven by hunger. As she entered, Bobby hung up the phone. He let out a frustrated, "Balls."

Alex frowned. "What's wrong?"

"That was Rufus," Bobby explained, walking into the living room.

"Ah. What's up with Ruf-dog?" In response, Bobby slid something over to him." 'Key West sees ten species go extinct'," Dean read.

"Yup. Plus Alaska." Bobby turned his attention back to Dean. "Fifteen-man fishing crew, all stricken blind, cause unknown. New York, teacher goes postal, locks the door and kills exactly sixty-six students. All of this in a single day. I looked them up, no doubt about it."

"Seals," Alex half stated, half guessed.

Bobby nodded gravely. "And they're breaking. Fast."

Alex muttered curses under her breath.

Bobby shifted. "You know how to stop it?"

Alex shook her head. "Sorry. I . . . if I had gotten here sooner . . . I'm sorry."

Bobby grunted. "Sorry don't fix it." He sighed. "Doesn't matter."

"How many are left?" Dean asked.

"Who knows? Can't be many. Where the hell are your angel pals?"

Dean shrugged, glancing up at Alex. "Any ideas?"

Alex shook her head. "Castiel won't answer. I guess his superiors chewed him out pretty bad."

"I'm just wondering," Bobby began.

"What?"

"The apocalypse being right and all . . . is now really the right time to be having this little domestic drama of ours?"

"What do you mean?" Dean put his elbows on the desk, and Alex plopped down on the couch.

"I mean, I don't like this any more than you do, but Sam can kill demons. He's got a shot at stopping Armageddon."

Alex sat up. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

"What do you think we mean," Dean snapped. "He can kill Lilith."

Alex shook her head. She had to tell them. "No. We can't let him do that."

"Why not?"

"Because!" Alex snapped. "Lilith is the last seal!"

Before she had finished her sentence, she knew what had happened. She was no longer in Bobby's living room; instead, she was a romanesque-style room. "Alex."

Alex turned at her voice. "Zachariah."

"You know."

"Yes, I do."

Zachariah walked forward. "Now, the question is how."

Alex shrugged. "Listen." She knew she was in a shitload of trouble. "It doesn't matter how, alright?"

"And where did this wall in your mind come from?" Zachariah stepped forward. "Who exactly put it there?"

Alex said nothing, and forced herself to be calm.

"You know, I have a sneaking suspicion that is was Castiel." The seraphim sat down on the corner of the table. "I haven't asked him, and, to be quite frank, I don't think he would answer."

Alex shrugged. "I doubt he would as well." She rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand. "So. I expect you are either going to kill me, or you will keep me here until Sam breaks the final seal."

"Killing you would be the simplest option," Zachariah concurred. "But perhaps not the smartest. No, I might consider letting you go after Lucifer is freed. On certain conditions."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "Such as what? Not shooting you in the head? Can't keep that promise, sorry. Because next time I see you and I have my gun, I will. I promise you that."

Zachariah stood up. "You would be right to respect me," he said, a threat lining his words. "You don't know what I can do to you. If you become uncooperative, I will personally wiggle my way under that wall of yours to see what is in there. And, trust me, you will _not_ enjoy it."

Alex squared her jaw, but held back a sharp retort. "What do you want?" she growled.

"I'm glad you asked." Zachariah tightened his yellow tie. "For starters, I want your solemn promise that you will _not_ stop Michael and Lucifer from fighting."

Alex nodded. She could do that.

"Two. You will do everything in your power to get Michael his vessel."

"Dean."

"Yes." Zachariah nodded his head.

Alex shook hers. "I can't promise that. But I can promise that I won't deter Dean from being Michael's vessel. His choice purely, not swayed by me."

The seraphim's eyes flashed. "I didn't know we were negotiating."

"I don't like to make promises I can't keep." Alex stuck her hands in her pockets. "Besides. If I were to convince De -- err, _try_ to convince Dean to be Michael's vessel, I could very easily lose his trust. And then where would that put us?"

"I told you. There is no negotiating."

"Then no deal." Alex removed her hands from her pockets, balling her fists.

"I don't think you understand who you're dealing with."

Alex squared her jaw once again, but said nothing.

Zachariah sighed. "I'll be back in one hour. Give me your answer then." Then he was gone.

"It's not going to change!" Alex snapped. She let out an angry breath, reaching for her phone. It wasn't with her. She let out another frustrated noise. "Castiel?" she prayed aloud. "Uh, hate to bother you, and all." She cursed under her breath. "Your boss is a dick, anyone ever tell you that?" She sat down at the table, resting her head on the table. She was boned. Screwed. She lifted up her head, letting it drop against the table in frustration.

"Alex."

Alex didn't look up. "What do you want."

"You called me."

"I just was talking to you."

Castiel hesitated, confused. "Then I'm here to talk back."

Alex turned her head, looking over at the angel. "Hm."

Castiel frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"Zachariah."

"Why?"

Alex angrily pushed her chair back, standing up. "Because I was going to tell Dean what the final seal was."

Castiel said nothing.

Alex wanted to yell. "Don't you care, Castiel? We can still stop this!"

Castiel turned to her. "Is this really such a bad thing? We can have paradise."

"What happened to you, man? Since when have you been rooting for the apocalypse?"

"It is what must happen." Castiel disappeared, and Alex screamed in anger.

 

 **A** n hour passed. Zachariah, as promised, returned. "What is your answer?"

Alex didn't look up from where she had her head on the table. She raised one hand, sticking up her middle finger. Then she was flung backwards. She hit a wall, collapsing to the ground. She lay there for a second, catching her breath. Then she slowly stood up.

Zachariah was inches from her face, pinning her against the wall. "I asked for respect," he growled.

"Is that part of our negotiating?" Alex growled back.

"Don't think I'm above torture." The seraphim's voice was low and dangerous, and Alex swallowed nervously. "That's what I thought." Zachariah stepped back. "Now. Do you agree?"

Alex shook her head. "I told you I can't!" she snapped. "You know it has to be Dean's decision." She let out a long breath. "What if I can promise you this. Dean will say yes. Michael and Lucifer will fight. Is that enough?"

Zachariah tipped his head. "What are you not telling me?" he asked. "Trust me, I know how these manipulating certain truths works."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Do the details matter? I told you what you will happen. I will do everything I can to keep it on track."

The angel studied her for several seconds. "And this is true?"

"Every word." Alex nodded.

"If you are lying, I will cut you up myself."

Alex nodded in understanding. "Good thing I'm not."

The angel disappeared, and Alex let out a long breath.

 

 **S** he was there for almost three days. Food appeared when she grew hungry, but she was utterly alone. Neither Castiel nor Zachariah visited, not matter how much Alex prayed to the former. A search of her own pockets had turned up her journal and a pencil in her jacket, but that was all. There was nothing else for her to do, so she spent her time sitting in the corner, arms around her knees, thinking.

Then, something changed. There was movement. "Hello, Dean. It's almost time."

Alex looked up. She saw Castiel, his back to her. She could see another pair of legs, but the rest of him was obstructed by the table. However, she knew it was Dean. She jumped up.

"Alex?" Dean looked surprised, then his face grew angry. "What the hell?"

Alex hurried over to him, pulling him into a hug. She just shook her head.

"What is she doing here?" Dean demanded of Castiel. A hand flew up to rest on her back, keeping her near.

Castiel lowered his gaze. "She's here because she needs to be."

Dean positioned himself in front of Alex. "I don't care, okay? We're leaving."

"You can't."

Dean hurried around the room, looking for a way out. Alex stood, arms crossed, watching him. Then, several hamburgers appeared on the table, along with a bucket of ice and beer. Dean noticed. He picked up a beer.

"Hello, Dean. You're looking fit." Zachariah appeared across the table.

Dean put back the beer. "Well, how 'bout this? The suite life of Zach and Cas." Neither angel got in, and Alex was too pissed to laugh. "It's a . . ." Dean tried to explain. "Never mind. So, what is this? Where them hell are we?"

"Call it a greenroom. We're closing in on the grand finale, here. We want to keep you safe before showtime." He gestured towards the hamburgers. "Try a burger. From the seaside shack in Delaware. You were eleven, I think."

Alex stepped forward, picking one up and unwrapping it. She was learning to take food when it came.

Dean, however, stayed where he was. "I'm not hungry." His voice was growing strong with aggravation.

"No, how about Ginger from season 2 of 'Gilligan's Island'? You do have a thing for her, don't you?"

Dean glanced at Alex, then back at Zachariah. "Tempting. Weird."

"We'll throw in Mary Ann for free."

Alex shook her head. "Not while I'm here."

Dean looked down at her. "What'd they offer you?"

"Torture. I declined."

Dean narrowed his eyes, turning back to the angel. "No. Let's . . . bail on this holodeck, okay? I want to know what the game plan is."

"Let us worry about that. We want you . . . focused. Relaxed."

"Well, I'm about to be pissed and leave, so start talking, Chuckles."

Zachariah sighed. "All the seals have fallen. Except one."

"That's an impressive score." Dean's sarcasm took over, the only hint that he was seriously pissed, yet scared. "That's, that's right up there with the Washington Generals."

"You think sarcasm's appropriate, do you? Considering . . . you started all this? But the final seal, it will be different."

"Why?"

"Lilith has to break it," Zachariah explained, ignoring Alex's snort of amusement. "She's the only one who can. Tomorrow night -- midnight."

"Where?"

"We're working on it."

"Well, work harder!" Dean snapped, taking a step forward.

"We'll do our job. You just make sure you do yours."

"Yeah, and what is that, exactly? If I'm suppose to be the one who stops her, how? With the knife?"

"All in good time," Zachariah promised. He approached Dean.

"Now's a good time."

"Have faith."

Alex wished she had her gun to shoot him.

"What? In you?" Dean snorted, feeling the same way. "Give me one good reason why I should." He took a step forward angrily.

Zachariah did the same, coming inches from Dean's face. "Because you swore your obedience," the angel growled.

Dean held his gaze, then looked away, eyes resting on Castiel. Castiel looked down, guilt written on his face. Dean searched for words, but found none.

Zachariah, satisfied, disappeared.

"Cas." Alex turned to the other angel.

He looked up at her. "Don't." Then he was gone.

"Dean."

"What." Dean turned away from her angrily.

"Don't be pissed at me," Alex snapped.

"I'm not pissed!" Dean spun around, anger blazing in his eyes. "Dammit, Alex --"

"This isn't my fault," Alex insisted. "The only reason I'm here is because I want to stop it all!"

"What do you mean?" Dean stepped closer to her. "You were going to tell us something about Lilith."

"Yeah, like, you shouldn't kill her." Alex's patience was wearing thin.

"Why not?"

"Because she's the final seal!" Alex finally snapped. "When Sam kills her, he sets Lucifer free."

Dean's anger flared up again, this time with a new vengeance. "Why didn't you tell us this?"

"I did! That's what got me here!" Alex took a deep breath. "There are reasons I don't tell you guys things. Zachariah threatened to torture me, Dean. He'd find a way through the wall and into my memories, and then no one will be safe."

"Wall? What wall?"

The young girl closed her eyes, slumping down in a chair. "I, uh, I had Cas built a wall in my mind. To keep angels from reading my mind. Well, my memories. It, uh, it would have killed me to build a wall around my whole mind."

Dean sat down next to her. "Why didn't you tell us this?"

Alex shrugged. "Never came up," she mumbled, head in her hands. She let out a long breath, running her hands down the side of her face and neck. Her voice cracked. "I'm sorry."

Dean shook his head. "It's fine." He stood up. "Cas? Castiel!" He angrily walked over to one of the many mantelpieces lining the wall and lashed out, knocking one of the angel figurines to the ground. It shattered.

"You asked to see me?"

Dean turned to see Castiel. Alex did the same, not bothering to get up. Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah. Listen, I, uh, I-I need something."

"Anything you wish."

"I need you to take me to Sam."

Castiel tipped his head. "Why?"

"There's something I got to talk to him about."

"What's that?"

Dean snapped, "The B.M. I took this morning. What's it to you? Just make it snappy."

"I don't think that's wise."

"Give it up, Dean," Alex mumbled. "You can't get out."

"Well, I didn't ask for your opinion," Dean snapped at her.

"Have you forgotten what happened last time you met?"

"No. That's the whole point." Dean circled around to stand in front of the angel. "Listen. I'm gonna do whatever you mooks want, okay? I just need to tie up this one thing. Five minutes -- that's all I need."

"No."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean, no? Are you saying I'm trapped here?"

"You can go wherever you want."

"I want to go back to Bobby's," Alex snapped.

Castiel turned to her. "You have to stay here."

"Why?" Alex stood up angrily.

"Because those are my orders."

Alex sat down frustratedly, grabbing a beer out of the bucket. "Screw your orders," she muttered.

"So. I can go wherever? Super. Take me to Sam."

"No."

Dean huffed. "Fine. Then I want to go on a walk."

"I'll go with you."

"Alone."

"No."

"You know what? Screw this noise. I'm out of here." Dean turned to leave, walking towards the door. Alex knew that wouldn't work.

"Through what door?" Castiel asked, voice strong and angry.

Dean turned to look at Cas, confused, then turned back towards the door. It was gone. "Dammit." He turned back to Castiel. He was gone.

"Never would have worked," Alex muttered, standing back up.

Dean's fist balled. He ran over to the wall, grabbing a small stone pedestal. He started banging it against the wall, trying to break through. Alex watched, sitting down once again. He was getting nowhere.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean threw the pedestal down out of pure frustration.

"Quit hurling feces like a howler monkey." Alex jumped at Zachariah's voice. "It's unbecoming."

Dean spun around. "Let me out of here."

The seraphim shook his head. "Like I told you: too dangerous out there. Demons on the prowl."

"I've been getting my ass kicked all year," Dean snapped. "That's not why I'm here. You don't want me to ice Lilith, do you?"

"Frankly, no, I don't." Zachariah approached. "Lilith is going to break the final seal. Besides, it's _fait accompli_ at this point. Train's left the station. Right, Alex?"

"Yeah," Alex begrudgingly admitted. She glared at the angel. "Doesn't mean we can't try." She stood up. "So why'd you try to get us to stop it?"

Zachariah turned to face her. "Our grunts on the ground -- we couldn't just tell them the whole truth. We'd have a full scale rebellion on our hands. I mean, think about it. Would we really let sixty five seals be broken unless senior management wanted it that way?"

Alex snorted. "Your senior management sucks. Michael would really destroy the entire world just to do what God wants him to?"

"Hold your tongue," Zachariah snapped, turning on the young human. "Don't forget what we've discussed."

Alex let out a wordless growl.

"Alex told me," Dean snapped. "This was your plan all along, wasn't it? To let Sam ice Lilith? Set Lucifer free?"

"Nothing's changed, Dean. You're still vital. We weren't lying about your destiny. We just . . . omitted a few pertinent details. You are chosen. You will stop it. Just . . . not Lilith, or the apocalypse. That's all."

"Which means?"

Zachariah gestured to a large painting on the far wall. "Lucifer. You're going to stop Lucifer. You're our own little Russell Crowe, complete with a surly attitude. And when it's over . . . and when we've won . . . your reward will be . . . unimaginable. Peace, happiness, two virgins and seventy sluts."

Alex huffed. "I'd rather shoot you in the face."

Zachariah pointedly ignored her. "Trust me, Dean. One day, we'll look back on this and laugh."

Dean's eyes flickered around the room before they came to rest on the seraphim. "Tell me something. Where's God in all this?"

"God?" Zachariah actually laughed. "God has left the building."

Dean was silent for a second. "I don't believe you."

"Believe it." Alex dragged her fingers down across her eye. "Archangels run the show. Freakin fallible angels. In control of everything." She sighed, reaching for a beer. When she looked up, Zachariah was gone.

Alex took a sip. "How's Sam?" she asked quietly.

"He's gone."

"Gone? What happened?"

Dean closed his eyes. "We don't know. All the demon traps were busted. Ruby, probably. Sam knocked Bobby out and stole a car." He looked over at Alex. "It was killing him, being in there. I, I would have let him die, too."

Alex let out a murmur of sympathy. "Also. When did you 'swear your obedience'? To who, angels? Zachariah?"

"Sammy was dying," Dean snapped. "And I thought I was the one who could stop it, okay? What was I suppose to do?"

Alex closed her eyes.

 

 **N** either she nor Dean really talked for the next hour. Alex sat in the corner, moping. Dean walked over to the left wall, pulling out his phone. He dialed a number, waiting. Then he frowned.

"You can't reach him, Dean." Castiel appeared with a light gust of air. "You're outside your coverage zone."

Dean turned to face the angel. "What are you gonna do to Sam?"

"Nothing," Castiel promised. "He's going to do it to himself."

"What's that suppose to mean?" the hunter snapped. When Castiel looked down, Dean scoffed, "Oh, right, right. Got to toe the company line. Why are you here, Cas?"

"We've been through a lot together, you and I," Castiel said quietly. "And I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it ended like this --"

"Sorry?" Dean snapped. He lashed out, punching the angel in the face. Castiel turned his head, barely flinching. His eyes locked with Alex, and she almost missed Dean turning away, cradling his wrist. She stood up. "It's Armageddon, Cas," Dean growled. "You're gonna need a bigger word than 'sorry.' "

Castiel continued to stare at Alex, and she approached. She reiterated Dean's words. "Sorry?" She shook her head. "Really? Is that all?" Her voice lowered. "I trusted you, Castiel. You've betrayed us -- me -- and all you have to say is sorry?! It's the end of the damn world!"

"Try to understand." If Castiel could sound pleading, he was doing it right now. "This has been long foretold." He turned to Dean. "This is your --"

"Destiny? Don't give me that 'holy' crap." Dean was beyond angry. "Destiny, God's plan . . . It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid, son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep you and me in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch it all burn?"

"What is worth saving?" Castiel countered. "I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see nothing but guilt, your anger, confusion." He turned to look at Alex. "You're hopelessly lost, blaming everything on yourself. In Paradise, all is forgiven." He looked back at Dean. "You'll be at peace. Even with Sam."

Dean took a step forward, his face inches from Castiel's. "You can take your peace -- and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. This is simple, Cas! There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it!"

"What will you have me do?"

"Get me to Sam." Dean lowered his voice, hoping he was winning. "We can stop this before it's too late."

"I do that, we'll be hunted," Castiel told him. "We'll be killed." He shook his head, looking down.

"You spineless," Dean turned away, raising his voice, "soulless, son of a bitch! What do you care about dying? You're already dead! We're done."

"Dean . . ." Castiel stared hopelessly at his friend.

"We're done!" As Dean spun around, Castiel disappeared.

Alex closed her eyes. "Dean . . . "

"Leave me alone!" Dean stormed off across the room.

 

 **H** alf an hour passed. Then Dean spoke. "Alex."

"What." Alex raised her head off the table where she was now sitting.

"Talk to Cas."

"What?" Alex looked over at Dean.

"I mean, you know, pray to him." Dean sat down next to her, taking a hamburger. Then he placed it at back. "He won't listen to me. But maybe to you. Come on. He's really our only chance, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"So, I dunno, convince him."

Alex looked into Dean's face, letting out a long breath. "Okay. I'll try. _No_ promises, okay?"

"Yeah. Of course." Dean stood back up, walking to the other side of the room.

Alex closed her eyes, feeling Dean's gaze on her. _Uh, hey Cas,_ she began awkwardly. _So, uh, listen. I know you want to stop the apocalypse. And so do we. But your superiors don't, okay? The final seal isn't just to broken by Lilith, it is Lilith. When Sam kills her, he sets Lucifer free._ She took a breath, opening her eyes to look at Dean. He was watching her out of the corner of his eye. _I, uh, listen, man. Your heart's always been in the right place, and if that means screw your superiors, then screw them, you know? Just, uh, I know you'll do what's right here, okay? I mean, and I would know._ She let out a small laugh in her head. _Please, man. We, uh, we need you. I need you._

Nothing happened. Alex opened her eyes, letting out a small sigh.

"You think you got through?"

"I don't know." Alex shook her head. "But, I do know Zachariah's gonna be pissed if he finds out." She grabbed a hamburger.

 

 **F** ive minutes ticked by. Then ten. Dean walked by the basket of hamburgers, pausing. He finally took one. Then he was spun around. Alex jumped up, but saw Castiel and stopped. Castiel pinned Dean against the wall, a hand over the human's mouth. They stared at each other for several seconds, and Castiel drew a knife from his coat pocket. Dean nodded slightly, and Castiel stepped back, glancing at Alex. She nodded as well, watching as the angel drew the knife across his arm, drawing blood. He quickly smeared it across the wall, drawing the ever-familiar angel banishing sigil.

With a sudden gust of air, Zachariah appeared. "Castiel!" he snapped. "Would you mind explaining exactly what the hell you're doing?"

In response, Castiel slammed his hand against the sigil, turning to look at his boss. Alex flinched as Zachariah was thrown far away in a brilliant flash of white light. "He won't be gone long," Castiel told Dean. "We have to find Sam now."

"Where is he?" Dean asked. Alex hurried over to them.

"I don't know. But we have to stop him." He looked over at Alex. "You were right. Lilith is the final seal."

"Of course I'm right," Alex snapped tersely.

"What are we going to do?" Dean asked. "We have to find Sam!"

"I know." Suddenly, they were gone.

And they reappeared in a dingy kitchen. Sitting at the table was Chuck. On the phone. Seeing them he stared, shocked. "Wait. T-This isn't suppose to happen."

"Sir?" Alex heard the faint sound of a woman on the phone. There were magazines on the table, several pornos.

Chuck picked back up the phone. "No, lady, this is definitely suppose to happen, but I got to call you back." He slowly hung up. "I . . ."

Castiel stepped forward. "Where is Sam?" he growled.

"Wh -- Sam?" Chuck looked from Castiel to Dean to Alex. "This, this isn't suppose to happen. I mean --"

"Answer the question!" Alex snapped.

"St. Mary's," the prophet stuttered. He hurried into the living room.

Dean followed. "St. Mary's? What is that, a covent?"

"Yeah, but you guys aren't suppose to be there. You're not in this story."

"Yeah well . . ." Castiel glanced back at the humans in his charge. "We're making it up as we go."

Alex let out a small snort of amusement.

Suddenly, Chuck's tv screen lit up with static. The ground shook, and a bright white light shone through the windows. "Aw, man!" Chuck exclaimed, shaking slightly. "Not again!"

"It's the archangel," Castiel whispered.

"Remiel?"

"Yes." Castiel turned to face them. "I'll hold them off," he promised. "I'll hold them all off! Just stop Sam!" He placed his palms over their foreheads, and suddenly they were gone.


	25. Sympathy for the Devil

**November 12th, 2009**

**St. Mary's Covent, Illechester, Maryland**

**T** hey were in an empty hallway. Alex immediately wrinkled her nose. The entire place smelled like death. Dean took off down the hall. "Sam!"

Alex followed. "Sam!" she yelled desperately. They could stop this.

"Sam!"

They rounded a corner, and heard a door slam close. They exchanged looks, then took off towards the noise. Up ahead, there was a wooden door. Dean got there first, trying the handle. It was locked. "Sam!" He threw his weight against it. "Sam!" He pounded on it angrily. "Sam!!"

"Dean?" Sam's voice came from behind the door.

"Sam!" Alex helped Dean try and break down the door. "Sam! Listen to me! Don't kill her!"

Dean was yelling the same things. "Open the damn door, Sam! Lilith is the last seal!" He looked desperately around, and, seeing a heavy candelabra, grabbed it, trying to bash in the door. "Sam!!"

The door didn't budge, not matter how hard they hit it. It was two minutes later before it suddenly gave in, and they rushed into the room. Alex froze. A body lay by the alter: Lilith. Blood poured down the stairs, pooling on the ground. Sam stood beside Ruby. Seeing Dean, she looked over, smirking. "You're too late."

"I don't care." Dean stepped forward menacingly. On an unspoken word, Sam grabbed Ruby from behind, a thick arm across her neck as Dean whipped out the demon knife. He stabbed her in the stomach. Ruby's face flickered with a yellowish light, and she let out a scream before going limp. Sam dropped her, and she crumpled to the ground.

Alex barely noticed. She was still staring at Lilith's body. They were too late. The blood moved like a snake, curling around to make a large circular pattern on the ground.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered brokenly. He stepped back.

The ground began to shake. "It's starting," Alex whispered, voice trembling. They were going to release the devil. Lucifer.

"Sam. Let's go." Dean tugged him towards the door. Alex didn't move. "Alex."

"Dean . . . he's coming." Sam clutched at his brother's shirt, terrified. Light emanated from the center of the pattern, filling the room.

"Come on!" Dean yelled, dragging Sam towards the door. Alex followed, but froze when the door slammed shut. Dean rattled the door handles, trying to get them out. White light shot from the sigil on the ground, growing brighter by the second. A high pitched screech filled the room, and Alex covered her ears. She dropped to her knees beside Sam, shielding her eyes. The light continued to grow, filling the entire room.

 

 **T** hen it was gone. Alex cracked open her eyes. She was sitting beside Sam and Dean. The ringing in her ears faded, and she looked around, eyes narrowed in confusion. They were on a plane.

"What the hell," Dean whispered, opening his eyes as well.

"I don't know," Sam whispered back.

An intercom crackled to life. "Folks, a quick word from the flight deck. We're just passing over Ilchester, then Elicott City, and our final destination is Baltimore . . ."

"Ilchester?" Dean asked. "Weren't we just there?"

"So if you'd like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time -- holy crap!" The plane jerked violently, and the white light filled the cabin. People screamed, and the oxygen masks dropped. Both Sam and Dean reached for theirs, and Dean's eyes were filled with panic. Alex took her mask too, putting it around her face. The lights flickered, and then turned back on. The plane steadied out, and the pilot's voice came back on, telling them it was okay to take off their masks.

 

 **T** hey landed in Baltimore, and Dean immediately rented a car, saying they were going to Chuck's. No one disagreed. After a while, Sam flipped the radio on. ". . . and Governor O'Malley urged calm, saying it's very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown."

Sam changed the station. "Hurricane Kinley, unexpectedly slamming into the Galveston area . . ."

" . . . announced a successful test of the North Korea nuclear . . ."

". . . a series of tremors . . ."

". . . swine flu . . ."

Sam turned off the radio. He took a deep breath. "Dean, look --"

"Don't say anything," Dean interrupted. "It's okay. We got to keep our heads down and hash this out, okay?"

Sam paused. "Yeah, okay," he finally agreed.

"All right. We'll first things first. How'd we end up on Soul Plane?" He looked in the rearview mirror at Alex.

Alex looked thoughtful. "Angels, I think. Maybe God."

"Well, whatever. That's the least of our worries." Dean gripped the wheel tightly. "We need to find Cas."

Alex slumped in her seat. Lucifer was free. They had released the devil into the world. _Castiel,_ she prayed. _We need your help. I . . . I'm sorry. I need to talk to you. Please._

Nothing.

 

**Baltimore, Maryland**

**T** hey drove to Chuck's house, getting there in the early morning. They knocked on the door, but no one answered. Finding the door was unlocked, they stepped inside. The house was a mess. Every piece of furniture had been overturned, and paper was scattered on the floor. Alex noticed large splatterings of blood over everything, and felt her stomach twist, not sure whose it was. But there was no way they could have survived.

She wandered into Chuck's office. It was in no better state. She came back into the kitchen to see Dean drawing something on the kitchen doors with his blood. Banishing sigil. Something creaked, and they froze. Sam turned around, walking into the living room very slowly. Dean followed, and Alex trailed behind, eyes warily darting around. She glanced behind them, then jumped when she heard the sound of something being hit. She looked towards Sam to see him stagger back. "Geez, ow!" he exclaimed, gingerly touching his head. Alex saw Chuck standing there, holding a plunger. She put two and two together.

"Sam!" Chuck exclaimed, relieved.

"Yeah!" Sam seemed pissed. Alex couldn't blame him.

"Hey Chuck." Dean stepped forward.

"So . . . you're okay?" The prophet studied them.

"Well, my head hurts," Sam pointed out.

"No, I mean -- I mean my latest vision," Chuck stammered. "You went, like, full on Vader. Your body temperature was one-fifty. Your heart rate was two hundred. Your eyes were black."

"Your eyes were black?" Dean asked, and Alex shared in his surprise.

"I didn't know."

"But where's Cas?" Alex asked.

"He's dead. Or gone. The archangel smote the crap out of him." He lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry."

Alex went blank with shock. Was this suppose to happen? She couldn't remember.

"You're sure? Maybe he just vanished into the light or something," Dean asked hopefully.

"Oh, no. He, like, exploded," Chuck insisted. "Like, like a water balloon of chunky soup."

Alex looked down at the pools of blood, and her stomach twisted even more.

Sam studied Chuck closely. "You got a . . ." he trailed off, motioning to his left ear.

"Um, right here?" Chuck reached up, feeling his hair. "Oh, oh God." He pulled something out of his hair, looking at it. "Is that a molar?" He looked up at them, his voice on the verge of a wail. "Do I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day."

Alex closed her eyes at the thought. Cas was dead. Dammit.

"Cas, you stupid bastard." Dean shook his head.

"Stupid?" Sam turned around. "He was trying to help us."

"Yeah, exactly." Dean sounded angry, but Alex knew he was grieving.

"So, now what?"

"I don't know."

"Oh crap," Chuck said quietly.

"What?" Both Alex and Sam asked at the same time.

"I can feel them."

Alex opened her mouth to ask who, but was cut off.

"Thought we'd find you here." Zachariah's voice reached their ears. Alex spun around angrily to see the angel. He was accompanied by two other angels. He looked down at the overturned table, nudging the toaster with a foot. "Play time's over, Dean. Time to come with us."

"You keep your distance, asshat," Dean warned.

"You're upset," Zachariah observed.

"Yeah. A little. You sons of bitches jump-started judgement day."

"Maybe we let it happen," Zachariah admitted. "But we didn't start anything. Right, Sammy?" He winked. Alex narrowed her eyes at the angel. "You had a chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So let's not quibble over who started what." He shot a meaningful glance at Alex. "Let's just say it was all our fault and move on. Cause like it or not, it's Apocalypse Now. And we're back on the same team."

Dean looked surprised. "Are we now?" Alex tightened her jaw.

"You want to kill the devil, we want to kill the devil. It's synergy."

"And I'm just suppose to trust you?" Dean scoffed. "Cram it with walnuts, ugly."

"This isn't a game, son." Zachariah's voice grew serious. "Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast, before he finds his vessel."

"His vessel?" Sam spoke up. "Lucifer needs a meat suit?"

"He's an angel. Them's the rules. And when he touches down, we're talking Four Horsemen, red oceans, fiery skies: the greatest hits. You can stop him, Dean but you need our help."

"You listen to me, you two-faced douche," Dean snarled. "After what you did, I don't want jack squat from you."

"You listen to me, boy. You think you can rebel against us, like Lucifer did?" He looked over at Dean, and paused. "You're bleeding."

"Oh yeah. A little insurance policy in case you dicks showed up." He pulled the kitchen door over, revealing the angel banishing sigil. He pressed his bleeding hand against it.

"No!" Zachariah stepped forward to stop him, but white light exploded from the sigil. Alex felt a strange sensation, and took a small step back. The light faded, and so did the feeling. She discarded the thought of it being weird. She was just tired. Tired and grieving. Dammit Cas.

"Learned that from my friend Cas, you son of a bitch!" Dean yelled.

"This sucks ass," Chuck said quietly. Alex looked over at him.

"We should get going," she said quietly.

"Yeah. You gonna be fine on your own?" Dean asked.

Chuck nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be okay."

Alex made a beeline towards the front door, Sam and Dean following.

 

 **T** hey headed off toward the nearest motel. Regent Inn Motel. She sat on one of the beds, watching Dean clean his gun at the kitchen table. She flicked her knife in and out, comforted by the sound. She looked around the room. The wallpaper was faded and dirty, and the dimly-lit place looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. The door opened, and Sam entered. "Hey."

"Hey." Dean looked up.

"Here." Sam tossed Dean and Alex a small bag. "Hex bags. No way the angel can find us with those. Demons either, for that matter."

"Where'd you get them?" Alex studied hers.

"I made them."

"How?"

Sam hesitated, and Dean looked over at him. "I . . . learned it from Ruby."

Dean put down his gun, standing up. "Speaking of." He approached Sam. "How are you doing? Are you jonesing for another hit of bitch blood, or what?"

"It's weird," Sam admitted. "To tell you the truth, I'm fine. No shakes, no fever. It's like whoever put me on the plane cleaned me right up."

"Supernatural methadone," Dean concluded.

"Yeah, I guess." He paused. "Dean . . ." Alex looked away, knowing where this was going.

"Sam," he interrupted, turned away from his brother. "It's okay, you don't have to say anything."

"Well, that's good. Because what can I say? 'I'm sorry? I screwed up?' Doesn't really do it justice, you know? Look, there's nothing I can say or do that will ever make this right --"

"Then why do you keep bringing it up?" Dean challenged. He turned back around. "Look, all I'm saying is, why do we have to put this under a microscope? We made a mess. We clean it up. That's it." Alex nodded. "All right," Dean continued, "so, let's say this is just another hunt. You know? What do we do first?"

"We'd, uh, figure out where this thing is," Sam established.

"All right. So we got to find . . . the devil." Dean faltered slightly, but pulled it back together. "Alex, any ideas?"

She shook her head. "Sorry. No clue. Maybe look closer to Baltimore? He's not going to go too far without a vessel."

Sam nodded and pulled out his laptop. "I'll look for strange weather, stuff like that."

Alex rolled over, curling up around a pillow. The bed dipped, and a hand rested on her shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." After a second, Alex admitted, "I . . . I don't remember if Cas was suppose to die. What if I screwed something up? He can't be dead!" Her words caught in her throat, and she blinked, trying not to cry.

Dean rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "We'll figure something out," he promised.

Alex closed her eyes, willing the tears to stay in. She sniffled, burying her face in the pillow.

 

 **T** hey spent the night there, and most of the next morning. Dean and Alex brought in lunch, which was quickly eaten. Alex was growing bored with all of the doing nothing, so she flicked on the tv. Dean joined her, turning on the news. Alex glanced over at Sam; he was sitting at the table, reading John's journal for the umpteenth time. "How would you then explain the earthquake, hurricane, and multiple tornadoes, all at the same time, all around the globe?" the reporter on the tv asked.

"Two words: carbon emissions," the man replied. Alex snorted.

"Yeah, right, Wavy Gravy," Dean told the tv. Alex smiled.

There was a knock on the door, and everyone looked up. Dean grabbed his gun, motioning for Sam to get the door. He did. Alex heard what sounded like to be crying. "Are you okay, lady?" Sam asked.

"Sam?" a girl gasped. "Is it really you?" She was breathing heavily. Sam glanced back at Dean and Alex. "And you're so firm." Alex saw her reach out a touch Sam's chest.

"Oh," she mouthed to Dean. She decided to help Sam out.

"Do I know you?" Sam asked, baffled.

"No, but I know you. You're Sam Winchester. And you're --" She looked past Sam at Alex and Dean. "-- not what I pictured," she finished. "I'm Becky."

Alex approached, studying her. She had straight blonde hair, and was wearing a green plaid shirt under a brown jacket. _Becky. Right._ She ran through her list. _Big fan, in love with Sam_. She decided to help Sam out. After all, why the hell not? "Sammy." She stopped beside him, putting an hand on his shoulder. "You gonna let her in?" She ran her hand down Sam's arm to his wrist, pulling him away slightly to let Becky in. She glanced at Alex, and their hands, and entered. "You, uh, you might want to play along," Alex whispered. Sam was too confused to protest.

"I've read all about you guys. I've even written a few-- " She stopped, letting out a childish giggle. "Anyways, Mr. Edlund told me where you were."

"Chuck?" Dean stood up. Sam closed the door, and walked over to his brother. Alex followed.

"He's got a message, but he's being watched," Becky told them. "Angels. Nice change up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old."

"Um, right. Just what's the message?" Sam asked impatiently.

"He had a vision. 'The Michael sword is on Earth. The angels lost it.' " Becky closed her eyes as she repeated it.

"The Michael sword?" Dean repeated.

"Becky, do you know where he is?"

"In a castle, on a hill made of forty-two dogs."

"Forty-two dogs?" Alex asked. "Are you sure that's right?"

Becky glanced at Alex. "Who are you?"

"Alex." Alex held out a hand. "Nice to meet you, too."

"Like, the Alex in the book?"

"Uh, sure."

"Are you sure you got the message right?" Dean interrupted.

She nodded. "It doesn't make sense, but that's what he said." She took a step closer to Sam. "I memorized every word." She touched Sam's chest again. "For you."

Sam looked over at Dean and Alex, then down at Becky. "Um, Becky? C-uh, can you . . . quit touching me?"

"No." Becky closed her eyes, running her hand over his chest.

"You want help?" Alex mouthed to him. Sam nodded, looking slightly desperate. "You owe me," she mouthed back. "Okay, Becky?" Alex stepped forward, breaking the woman's concentration. "Thanks for all the help, but you can go now." She took Sam's hand, threading her fingers through his.

Becky noticed, and stepped back. She nodded, making her way to the door. "Oh. Okay." She smiled at Sam, but glared at Alex. Then she left.

As soon as the door was closed, both Sam and Alex dropped each other's hands. "Ugh." Alex made a disgusted noise and wiped her hand off on Sam's shirt.

"Stop." Sam marched across the room back to his work.

"Hey, I helped," Alex protested. "Next time, I'll let you deal with her on your own." She emphasized the last few words before turning back to Dean. "What?"

"That was your plan?" Dean looked shocked.

"It got her out of here, didn't it?" Alex shrugged. She fell back on the bed.

"Yeah, and now she probably thinks we're dating or something," Sam argued.

"Better than her thinking she's dating you. Or you two are dating." Everyone wrinkled their nose at that one. "Yeah. That's pretty much what she writes about. Wincest."

"You still could have come up with a better way," Sam grumbled.

"Hey. It was acting, okay? And if I was going to date either one of you, I'd pick the less dysfunctional one."

"What?" Dean exclaimed. "Don't bring me into this."

"Why not? You're kind of cute," Alex joked. She threw a pillow at Dean for a distraction. "Okay. Michael's sword. Forty-two dogs. Any ideas?"

Sam seemed thankful for the change in topic. "I suppose I could contact Bobby. He might know something."

Dean nodded. "Tell him to bring Baby."

 

 **A** few hours later, there was a knock on the door. Dean answered it. "Hey, Bobby."

Bobby stepped into the room, giving Dean a large hug. "Good to see you guys all in one piece." He told them, looking at Sam and Alex. He gave Sam a hug as well, and Dean closed the door.

"You weren't followed, were you?" Dean asked.

"You mean by angels, demons, or Sam's new superfan?"

Both Sam and Alex laughed. "You heard."

"I heard, Romeo -- So, sword of Michael, huh?"

"You think we're talking about the actual sword from the actual archangel?" Dean asked.

Alex thought. "Maybes. I don't remember any sword, but it has been a year and a half. I've forgotten a ton."

"Well, then you better friggin' hope it is." Bobby said. He opened one of his books, and Alex looked over at it. It was a picture of who Alex assumed to be Michael, holding a sword, surrounded by angels. "That's Michael. The toughest son of a bitch they got."

"You kidding me? Tough?" Dean scoffed. "He looks like Cate Blanchett."

"Well, I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, believe me. He commands the heavenly host. During the last big dust-up upstairs, he's the one who booted Lucifer's ass to the basement. Did it with that sword. So if we can find it . . ." He traced a finger over the drawing.

"We can kick the devil's ass all over again. All right. So where do we start?" Sam asked.

"Divvy up and start reading." Bobby handed Alex his book. "Try and make sense of Chuck's nonsense."

Alex rolled her eyes, but took the book over to the bed and started reading. "Kid? You alright?" She heard Bobby ask. She looked up to see Sam staring at the pile of books.

"No, actually." Sam turned to face the older hunter. "Bobby, this is all my fault. I'm sorry."

"Sam . . ." Dean began.

"Again?" Alex sighed under her breath.

"Lilith didn't break the final seal. Lilith was the final seal." Sam told Bobby.

"Sam, stop it." Dean said firmly.

"I killed her, and I set Lucifer free."

"You what?" Bobby seemed shocked.

"You guys warned me about Ruby, about the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on."

Both Alex and Dean sat there silently. However, Bobby stood up and approached Sam. "You're damn right you didn't listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant."

"I'm sorry." Sam apologized.

"Oh yeah?" Bobby kept going. "You're sorry you started Armageddon? This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle we pull this off -- I want you to lose my number. You understand me?"

Alex narrowed her eyes in worry and confusion. Bobby never got this harsh with anyone, much less someone he considered his own son. However, Sam didn't seem surprised. He just nodded, as if it's what he expected. "There's an old church nearby." He turned towards the door. "Maybe I'll go read some of the lore books there."

"You do that." Bobby watched Sam leave before turning back to the table.

 

 **A** few quiet hours later, Bobby broke the silence. "I never would have guessed your daddy was right." He and Dean were seated at the table, completely focused on reading.

"About what?"

"About your brother."

Dean looked up sharply.

"What John said -- you save Sam or kill him -- maybe . . ."

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe we shouldn't have tried so hard to save him."

"Bobby!" Alex looked up from her journal, shocked.

"He ended the world, Alex. And we weren't strong enough to stop him proper. That's on us. I'm just saying, your dad was right."

"Dad." Dean froze. He got up and went over to his bag, looking through it. He pulled out a ziploc bag full of cards. "It's got to be in here somewhere."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Here." Dean pulled out one of the cards and held it up. Alex got up to look at it. "I don't believe it."

"What the hell is it?" Bobby asked.

"It's a card for my dad's lockup in upstate New York. Read it."

Bobby took the card. "Castle Storage. 42 Rover Hill."

"Castle on a hill of forty-two dogs." Dean took back the card.

"So you think your dad had the Michael sword the whole time?" Bobby asked.

"I don't know. I'm non sure what else Chuck could have meant."

"Yeah, okay. It's good enough for me." Bobby punched Dean in the chin, sending him flying through the half wall and onto the bed by Alex. She let out a startled yell. Dean rolled onto the floor, and Bobby hauled him to his feet, kicking him in the stomach. Dean flew through the closet doors. Alex jumped at Bobby, but he easily threw her into the wall. Then he pulled Dean to his feet. The door opened, and Alex struggled through the pain to look up.

A woman walked through, looking at Dean. "I always knew you were a big, dumb, slow, dim pain in the ass, Dean. But I never knew you were so V.I.P." She picked up Ruby's knife that was on the tv stand. "I mean, you're going to ice the devil? You? If I had known that, I'd have ripped your pretty, pretty face off ages ago."

"Ruby?"

"Try again," the demon advised. "Go back further."

"Meg?" Dean scowled.

"Hi. These are the days of miracles and wonder, Dean. Our father's among us. You know we're all dreaming again for the first time since we were human? It's heaven on earth. Or hell. We really owe your brother a fruit basket."

"My God, you like the sound of your own voice," Dean shot back.

"But you, on the other hand, you're the only bump in the road. So every demon -- every single one -- is just dying for a piece of you."

 _Meg._ The familiar name rang through Alex's head. She struggled to her feet.

"And who are you?" Meg turned to her.

"Alex." Alex stood up tall, meeting the demon's gaze as confidently as she could.

"Hm." Meg looked from Dean to Alex. "So you're Dean's new bitch, eh?"

Anger flashed through Alex, but she held her tongue.

"Get her." Meg glanced at the demon behind her, then flicked her wrist at Alex. Black smoke flew out of the man's mouth and barreled towards Alex. She heard Dean yell, "No!" as it forced itself into her mouth. Then it stopped. She could feel it pushing to get it, but it couldn't. It pulled out, circling her body several times before returning to it's other victim. Alex watched, shocked.

The man stood back up. "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" Meg asked, eyeing the young girl. She shrugged, unsure. Dean glared at Meg, eyes dark.

"I can't," the demon repeated. "There's nothing blocking me. No charm, no spell, nothing. but I can't get in."

Alex smirked, pretending to know why she was protected. But inside she was terrified.

Meg held her gaze for several long seconds. "I suppose it doesn't matter," she finally continued, turning back to Dean. "Because, you know, your surrogate daddy's still awake screaming in there. And I want him to know how it feels to slicing the life out of you." She handed Bobby the knife. Alex stepped forward to intercept it, but was thrown back into the wall. She cried out in pain.

"Bobby!" Dean yelled. Alex looked up to see Bobby hold the knife to Dean's throat.

"Now!" Meg commanded. Alex struggled to her feet, watching Bobby raise the knife.

"Bobby, no!" Dean pleaded.

"No!" Alex screamed as the knife swung down. However, it missed Dean completely, burying itself in Bobby's stomach. Golden light flashed in Bobby's face, and he collapsed.

Anger flashed through Dean, and he rushed at Meg. Alex launched herself at the male demon, landing a solid punch before she was thrown across the room. She heard Dean hit the wall, and the door open.

"No!" She heard Sam yell, and scrambled to her feet.

"Hey, Sammy. You miss me? Cause I sure missed you." Meg turned.

"Meg?" Sam looked stunned and angry. Alex jumped at Meg, hitting her square in the back. They fell over, and Meg rolled them over, punching Alex in the face. She wound up for a second one when she was pulled away by Sam. He swung at her, but missed, and Meg kneed him in the crotch. He fell to the ground next to Alex.

Meg knelt down beside him, punching him in the face. "Not so easy without your super-special demon powers, huh Sammy?" Meg grinned. Alex rolled to her feet, wrapping her arms around Meg, dragging her to the ground with her. She held her down as Sam recovered. She heard a thud, followed by a scream, and looked over to see Dean bury the knife in the other demon's chest. Meg took the opportunity to throw Alex off, scrambling to her feet. Faced with all three, she backed away. Suddenly she threw her head back, screaming as black smoke rushed from her mouth. The woman collapsed.

Dean lowered the knife, and Sam rushed over to Bobby. "He's still breathing," he said quietly.

"Let's get him to the hospital." Dean dropped the knife, kneeling beside the older hunter. "Let's go!" he yelled when nobody moved. He and Sam dragged Bobby to his feet. Alex ran ahead, opening the door for them. She grabbed the Impala's keys off the table. "Stay here." Dean instructed her when she handed him the keys. Alex started to protest, but Dean cut her off. "Not now. Stay here, stay safe, okay?"

Alex nodded, watching them drive off. She hurried back to their room. Looking around the room, she let out a loud breath. She had one body and one unconscious girl to deal with. Girl first. Alex cleaned the demon knife with a rag from Dean's bag before kneeling beside the young woman, shaking her awake. "You okay?" she asked quietly.

The woman nodded, eyes wide and full of fear. Alex got up and grabbed some water, handing it to her. She took it gratefully. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"It's going to be okay." Alex promised. "Um, can you walk? You'll have to see yourself out, sorry. Oh, and don't, don't tell people about this." She lapsed into silence. "You're lucky to be alive, you know."

"Thanks." the woman repeated, still shaken up. Alex let her sit in silence while she continued to clean up. She packed up their bags, figuring they'd leave very fast. She studied the body, not sure what they were going to do with it. She heard the woman stand up.

"You leaving?" she guessed. The woman nodded, walking towards the door. Alex stopped her. "Seriously. Don't tell anyone. Lay low, and they won't come back for you." That wasn't entirely true, but it was worth a shot. The woman nodded, hurrying out the door. "Wait!" Alex chased after her. She handed her a ten dollar bill. "Get a ride home, okay?" She returned to the hotel.

Her cell ran. " 'Ello. Dean?"

"Yeah. You okay?"

"Yeah. How's Bobby?"

"He's, he'll live. We're heading back. Get packed, we're going to New York."

"Done." Alex promised. "What do you want to do with the dead guy? The girl already left; I gave her some money to get a taxi."

There was a small pause at the other end of the line. "Uh, just leave him there. We don't have time to do anything. Wipe everything down, don't let anyone see you."

"K." Alex hung up. She finished packing and began to wipe down every surface, being very, very thorough. Then she froze. Alex reached down and picked up her necklace off the nightstand. She paused, studying it. The anti-possession charm hung there beside the angel wing. A shiver ran through her as she thought about how close she had come to being possessed. Why hadn't the demon been able to possess her? She shook the thoughts off, slipping the necklace over her head. She slung all of the bags around her shoulder, carefully closing the door as she left. Then she waited out in the street for the Impala.

"Get in." Dean pulled up against the curb.

"What about this stuff?" She shrugged her shoulder, motioning to the bags.

"No time. Throw it in the back." Sam looked impatient.

Alex didn't hesitate. She tossed it all into the back, climbing in. "Hotel's clean. Wiped every surface down. Might find DNA from stuff, but we should be fine."

Dean drove off.

 

 **A** n hour later, Dean spoke up. "What happened back there?" he asked, looking back at Alex.

"Huh?" Alex perked up, leaning forward.

"Why couldn't that demon, you know, possess you?"

Alex furrowed her brow. "I have no idea," she finally admitted. "I wasn't wearing the protection charm." There was a pause. "Maybe cause I'm from a different universe?" she suggested weakly. "I don't know why . . ."

"What?" Sam looked over at Dean.

"Some demon tried to possess Alex, but couldn't." Dean explained.

"Why?"

"I don't know!" Alex exclaimed angrily. "I'm not lying, and I don't know!"

Sam sat quietly for a few seconds. "Maybe you're just so full of yourself there wasn't enough room," he finally suggested.

Despite herself, Alex smiled. "Yeah, that's probably it."

They lapsed into silence.

 

**Upstate New York**

**T** wo hours later, they pulled into the parking lot of Castle Storage in New York. Dean turned off the car, and they got out, circling around to the trunk. Both Sam and Dean prepped their guns, and Sam handed Alex hers. She took it without hesitation, tucking it away in her jeans. Dean unlocked the storage unit, and they entered, Sam covering them with one of his sawed-off shotguns. The first thing Alex noticed were the three dead men, laying in a devil's trap. She quickly assumed them to be demons, then turned her gaze elsewhere, deeming them no threat. The storage unit was large, full of weapons and boxes and shelves. They ventured further in, weapons posed.

"I see you told the demons where the sword is." Alex jumped at the voice. She spun around with Sam and Dean. Zachariah stood there, wearing his usual suit and tie. There two angels from Chuck's house were with him.

"Oh thank God," Dean said sarcastically. "The angels are here."

"And to think . . . they could have grabbed it anytime they wanted." Zachariah waved his hand, and the door closed. "It was right in front of them."

"What do you mean?"

Zachariah approached, stepping over a body on the ground. "We may have planted that particular piece of evidence inside Chuck's skull, but it happened to be true. We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn't find it. Until now. You just hand delivered it to us."

"We don't have anything," Dean insisted.

Zachariah looked at Alex. "Would you like to break the news, or should I?"

"Alex? Where's the Michael sword?" Dean asked. Alex pursed her lips, refusing to speak. She just glared at the angel.

"It's you, chucklehead," Zachariah finally spoke. "You're the Michael sword." Dean stared, surprised. "What, you thought you could actually kill Lucifer?" The seraphim chuckled slightly. "You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing? No. You're just a human, Dean. And not much of one."

"What do you mean, I'm the sword?" Dean asked coldly.

"You're Michael's weapon. Or rather, his . . . receptacle."

"I'm a vessel?"

"You're _the_ vessel. Michael's vessel."

"And you were planning on telling me, when?" Dean turned angrily to Alex.

"Sorry I've been a touch busy with the whole Lucifer rising crap," Alex retorted. "You try remembering eight seasons of details for an extended period time."

"Why me?" Dean turned back to the angel.

"Because you're chosen. It's a great honor, Dean."

"Life as an angel condom. That's real fun. I'll pass, thanks." Dean replied. Anger flooded through Alex, and she lifted her gun, unloading three shots into Zachariah's head. They hit their mark dead on.

Zachariah turned towards her. "Excuse me?"

Alex squared her jaw. "I made you a promise, remember?"

The seraphim clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Joking, always joking. Well, no more jokes." Zachariah raised a hand, finger pointing at Alex like a gun. "Bang."

Pain. That was the first thing Alex felt. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she fell to the ground. She vaguely heard Zachariah 'shoot' Sam, and felt him hit the ground beside her. "God!" Sam cried out. Alex screwed up her face in pain.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean yelled.

"Keep mouthing off, and I'll break more than just their legs," Zachariah warned. "I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don't have our general. That's bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against our adversary. You understand me?"

"How many humans die in the crossfire, huh?" Dean challenged. "A million? Five, ten?"

"Possibly more. If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them. He'll roast the planet alive."

"There's a reason you're telling instead of just nabbing me," Dean reasoned. "You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin." Alex tried to pull herself up into a sitting position through the pain.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Well, there's got to be another way."

"There is no other way. There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written."

"Yeah, maybe. But on the other hand -- eat me. The answer is no."

"Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby. We know he's gravely injured. Say yes, and we'll heal him. Say no and he'll never walk again."

"No."

"Then how about we heal you from -- stage four stomach cancer."

Dean doubled over. He coughed, blood coming from his throat. "No," he choked out.

"Then how about your brother as well?" Sam began coughing up blood as well, a small pool forming below his head.

"No," Alex warned Dean, shaking her head.

Zachariah glared at her. "Then let's get creative. Let's see how Alex does -- without her lungs." Zachariah snapped his fingers. Then Alex couldn't breathe. She gasped, trying to draw in air, but she knew it had nowhere to go. She rolled onto her back, desperately fighting the panic that was boiling up inside her empty chest.

"Just kill us," Dean whispered angrily. Alex looked over to see Zachariah bending over Dean, holding his chin, looking into his eyes.

"Kill you?" the angel laughed. He straightened back up. "Oh, no. I'm just getting started."

Alex stared at the ceiling, still fighting panic. There was a bright flash of light, and Alex looked up, eyes widening as she saw him. Castiel. She arched off the ground as bright lights flashed behind her eyes. She heard loud scuffling, followed by another flash of white. Alex closed her eyes, feeling herself starting to lose consciousness. _I'm going to die,_ she realized, and that realization strangely comforted her. She vaguely heard Castiel and Zachariah conversing, but couldn't focus. Then she passed out.

 

 **T** he next thing she felt was cold air rushing into her lungs. She didn't open her eyes immediately, instead she focused on her breathing. In and out. In and out. "You three need to be more careful." She heard Castiel's voice near her. She cracked open her eyes to see the angel kneeling beside her, blue eyes watching her carefully.

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that. Your frat brothers are bigger dicks than I thought," Dean replied. Alex struggled to sit up.

"I don't mean the angels."

Alex's memory began coming back. She stood up on shaky legs, and Castiel helped her to her feet. Alex suddenly wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. "Dammit," she whispered. "I thought you were dead."

"I was."

"Then how are you back?" Dean asked.

"Lucifer is circling his vessel." Castiel ignored Dean. "And when he takes it, those hex bags won't be enough to protect you." He stepped away from Alex and approached Sam and Dean. He put one hand on each of their chests. Both Sam and Dean gasped.

Castiel turned to Alex. His blue eyes held Alex's gaze as he gently placed a hand on her chest. A strange painful sensation shot through her, and she gasped as well, but found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the angel's.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, causing Cas to look away.

"An Enochian sigil. It's to hide you from any and every angel in creation, including Lucifer."

"What, did you just brand us with it?" Dean asked incredulously.

"No. I carved it into your ribs."

"Cool." Alex looked down as if she could see it.

"Were you seriously dead?"

"Yes."

"Then how are you back?" Dean repeated. Castiel didn't answer. Instead, he vanished.

They stood there in silence for several seconds. "Waste of a damn trip," Alex mumbled.She looked over at Sam and Dean. "We gonna head out?" Her attention was brought back to all of the artifacts in the storage unit. She wandered over to a box.

"Don't touch that," Dean told her tiredly. Alex dropped her hand. "Let's leave." Dean followed Sam back to the car. Alex trailed after them, picking up her gun off the floor.

She quietly got into the backseat of the car. "Now what?" she quietly asked.

"Now, we're going to make sure Bobby's okay." Dean started the car, pealing out of the parking lot and onto the road.

 

 **T** hey drove in complete silence. Three hours later, they pulled into the darkened parking lot of St. Martin's Hospital. Alex followed them through the winding halls, stopping before Bobby's room. "I'll be right back. I have to go the bathroom." she smoothly lied. She turned around and headed off, glancing back to make sure Sam and Dean weren't following. She let out a loud sigh. She didn't want to go in and face Bobby. Not only would she have to answer the question of if Bobby would be okay, but she would also have to explain why that demon couldn't posses her, and frankly, she didn't have an answer. She looked up, finding herself in the hospital's cafeteria. She grinned.

 

 **S** he returned to Bobby's room, chewing on another Skittle.

"Unlikely to walk again?" she heard Bobby yell. "Why, you snot-nosed son of a bitch! Wait 'till I get out of bed!" The door opened, and a doctor ran out. Alex stepped back to give him room, shoving the rest of the candies into her mouth. "I'll use my game leg and kick your friggin ass! Yeah, you better run!" Alex stepped into the room to see Bobby look over at Sam and Dean, who were standing by the window. "Can you believe that yahoo?"

"Screw him," Dean promised. "You'll be fine. Right?" he looked over at Alex. She opened her mouth, showing him it was full, using it as an excuse not to answer. She mumbled something incoherent to prove her point.

"So, let me ask the million dollar question. What do we do now?" Sam saved Alex from explaining further.

"Well, we save as many as we can as long as we can, I guess," Bobby answered. "It's bad. Whoever wins, Heaven, Hell, we're boned."

"What if we win?" Dean asked. Both Sam and Bobby looked over at him, surprised. "I'm serious." Dean insisted, though Alex thought his confidence sounded forced. "I mean, screw the demons and the angels and the crap apocalypse. Hell, they want to fight a war, they can find their own planet. This one's ours, and I say they get the hell off. We take 'em all on. We kill the devil. Hell, we'll even kill Michael if we have to. But we do this our own damn selves."

"And how are we suppose to do all this, genius?"

"I got no idea. But what I do have is a GED and a give-em-hell attitude, and I'll figure it out."

"Great," Alex mumbled. "Cause the Pythagorean theorem's gonna be a huge help." Dean shot her a glare, but said nothing.

"You're nine kinds of crazy, boy," Bobby agreed.

"We're all crazy," Alex reminded him. Sam let out a snort in agreement.

"Yes, we know." Dean patted Bobby on the shoulder. "Listen, you stay on the mend. We'll see you in a bit." He walked off towards the door. Alex turned to follow.

"Sam?" Bobby stopped the hunter. Sam stopped. "I was awake. I know what I said back there. I just want you to know that, that that was the demon talking. I ain't cutting you out, boy. Not ever."

There was a short pause, and Alex smiled. "Thanks, Bobby," Sam whispered.

 

 **A** lex left the room, following Dean out to the car. An ambulance drove by, and Alex stopped, letting it pass. Sam caught up, walking by Dean's side. "You know, I was thinking, Dean. Maybe we should go after the Colt."

"Why? What difference would that make?"

"Well, we could use it on Lucifer. I mean, you just said back there --"

"I just said a bunch of crap for Bobby's benefit." Dean turned to face his brother. "I mean, I'll fight. I'll fight till the last man, but let's at least be honest. I mean, we don't stand a snowball's chance, and you know that. I mean, hell, you of all people would know that."

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but quickly shut it, figuring it would avoid further questioning. Dean stalked past Sam.

"Dean."

"Is there something you want to say to me?" Dean spun around, eyes flashing. Alex shrunk back, standing by the lamppost. There was a very long, uncomfortable pause. Finally Dean spoke. "I tried, Sam. I mean, I really tried. But I just can't keep pretending everything's alright. Because it's not. And it's never going to be. You chose a demon over your own brother, and look what happened."

"I would give anything -- anything -- to take it all back," Sam said quietly.

"I know you would. And I know how sorry you are. I do. But man . . . you were the one I depended on the most. And you let me down in ways I can't even . . ." he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "I'm just, I'm having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here, you know?"

"What can I do?"

"Honestly? Nothing," Dean admitted. Sam let out a small, understanding nod. "I just don't -- I don't think we can ever be what we were. You know?" Dean continued. Sam nodded again, head hung. "I just don't think I can trust you."

Alex flinched at the harsh words, and Sam looked up, shocked. Dean shook his head and turned around, walking back to the car. He stopped by the Impala, looking back. Alex took a step forward, but Dean stopped her with a glare. She stepped backwards, back behind Sam, the look in his eyes hurting her beyond description. She heard the car door slam, and the Impala drove off into the night. She looked up at Sam. "Sorry," she apologized quietly.

Sam looked down at her, and Alex shrunk back, expecting anger. But when he spoke, he only sounded tired. "You've caused enough trouble," he sighed, turning his broad back to her. He slowly walked off towards the hospital. The sky opened up, and cold rain fell onto the pavement. Alex started to follow Sam. He turned back to her. "Don't." He shook his head wearily.

Alex stopped, lowering her head. Thunder crashed, and Alex watched Sam disappear into the hospital. Rain drummed on the ground, and soon, Alex was soaked, her hair plastered to her scalp, and her clothes clinging to her skin. But she didn't move. She didn't want to. _This isn't your fault,_ she told herself. _It was going to happen anyways. But you could have stopped it. You could have stopped it, and you could have saved all those people. You could have saved Bobby._ Anger flashed through her, and she spun around, fist balled. She lashed out, a fist connecting with the post. Pain flashed up her arm, but she refused to admit it.

"Miss?" A voice snapped Alex out of her thoughts. "Are you okay?" Alex looked up to see a man.

"Go away," she growled. "Leave me alone. Leave me alone!" Her voice rose, cracking. The man walked away. Pain and hurt flashed through her, and she slumped to the ground, leaning against the lamppost. She put her head in her hands, wanting to disappear. A single tear slipped down her face as frustration built up inside, pushing to get out. She buried her head in her knees, letting out an inhuman scream.

 

 **S** he didn't want to move, but the November cold drove her inside. She sat in the lobby, curled up in one of the chairs.

 

 **T** he next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake. She looked up to see who it was. Dean. Alex closed her eyes, reburying her head in her knees. "Alex?" Dean's voice was deep in concern. "What are you doing out here?"

"Doesn't matter." Alex forced her body to uncurl, wincing in pain. She found herself unable to move her right hand, and looked down to see it was red and swollen. She groaned.

Dean noticed, and frowned. "Did Sam do this?" he asked with barely concealed anger. "Son of a bitch."

"It wasn't Sam." Alex tried to stagger to her feet. Dean helped her up, his face still angry. "No. He's with Bobby."

"And why are you out here?" He noticed Alex's wet clothes. "Have you been out there all night?!"

"I came in when it got cold. You wouldn't let me go with you, and Sam wouldn't let me go with him." She looked down at her swollen wrist, which she was cradling against her chest. "I guess I had to let out a little steam."

Dean made an angry noise. "Let's get you inside." He helped her farther into the hospital.

 

 **W** ithin the next hour, Alex found herself back in Bobby's room. Dean had made sure she had gotten her wrist checked out, and thankfully, it wasn't broken. The doctor had bandaged it to keep the swelling down, and told her to stay off of it, but it would heal. "She what?" Bobby exclaimed, looking over at Alex. He looked between Sam and Dean. "You two better man up and get responsible. You can't just leave her alone."

"Bobby," Alex said, exasperated. "I can take care of myself."

"Well, obviously you can't," Bobby shot back. Alex huffed angrily, crossing her arms, but thought better than argue. "What were you two thinking? She's your responsibility, boys. What if something worse had happened?" Both Sam and Dean hung their heads like two chastised schoolboys. Alex huffed again, stomping out of the room. She sat down on the ground, leaning against the wall. She heard the door open, and looked up to see Dean. She stood up.

"Listen," Dean began. "I'm sorry about last night--"

"Doesn't matter," Alex interrupted. "Bobby's always like that. Where we staying now?"

"Motel down the street," Dean answered. "But--"

"Key." Alex held out her hand.

Dean wordlessly gave it to her. "Room 15. But--"

"Shower. TV." Alex didn't let him finish. "Bye." She stalked off down the hall. Exiting the hospital, she walked across the parking lot and out to the main road. She paused, not sure which way to go.

"Left!" she faintly heard Dean yell. She didn't acknowledge him, but stalked off down the street, heading left.

 

 **T** en minutes later, she reached a motel. Assuming it was were they were staying, she walked up to room 15, sliding the key into the lock. It worked. The door clicked open, and Alex stepped inside. She hardly bothered checking it out. Instead, she headed straight to the bathroom, stripping off her stiffly dried clothes. She stepped into the shower, the warm water pummeling her cold skin. She didn't bother washing her hair; instead, she just stood there, too tired to care. Only when the water grew cold did she finally turn it off.

She stepped out, wrapping a towel around her. Not hearing anyone in the other room, and not wanting to put back on her wet clothes, she stepped out of the bathroom, grabbing Dean's duffle bag that was on the bed. She rifled through, pulling out a clean shirt. She pulled it on, frowning when she realized that this wasn't Dean's shirt; it was Sam's, and it was huge. Alex finally shrugged, not wanting to care. She dug around for a pair of pants. Not really wanting to even try to put on his jeans, she opted for his sweatpants.

Finally dressed, she fell back onto the bed, burying her head in the pillows. She was tired, but not tired enough for sleep to come. Her wrist hurt, and Alex realized she was in fact laying on it. She shifted, pulling it out from under her. She rolled over, reaching for the remote. Flicking on the tv, she scrolled through the channels. Like always, there was nothing on. Sigh. So she turned on some documentary about murders. Oh well.

She propped herself up against headboard, and her mind started to wander. _What happens next?_ She made a mental list. _Lucifer rises. Bobby's in a wheelchair. Four horsemen. Death. Pestilence. Famine. What was the other? War. Order? Death was last. Pestilence before that. War or Famine? Not sure. Crowley. Colt doesn't work. Five things. What five things?_ Her mind started to wander. She shook her head, getting back on track. _Gabriel. He gets killed. Save him._ She narrowed her eyes, thinking harder. _Sam says yes. Cas is cut off. Crap. Sam falls in. With Michael and Adam. Something with Zachariah? Hm. Bobby gets better. Not sure how_. For some reason, her mind kept going back to Lucifer. _Can't find us now, can you big boy?_ she thought. _Not with those rib carvings and such. Hm. Probably got your vessel now. Nick, right? Yah. Nick._ She shook her head. "Are you talking to the devil?" she asked herself. She returned to her show.

 

 **A** few hours later, the door opened, and Dean and Sam stepped through. They walked in, not making any eye contact with Alex. "You guys okay?" she asked.

"Yeah." Sam sat down on the other bed, still avoiding her gaze.

"Bobby chew you out some more?" she guessed.

"Yeah." Dean pulled two beers out of the fridge, tossing one to Sam. "Bottom's up."

"Pass me one." Alex held up a hand.

"Uh-huh, girl." Dean shook his head. "I've just gone through two hours of Bobby railing on us about you. I'm not doing anything that'll get me in trouble again."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Come on, man. I drink beer all the time. You've never gotten in trouble for giving it to me; why would he start now?" Nothing happened. Alex sighed. "He's just mad that he's helpless in the hospital. It'll pass."

"So he does recover?" Sam looked over at her.

"Yeah." Alex narrowed her eyes. "I think. I'm not sure how long it takes, but yeah."

"Cas'll probably fix him." Dean promised his younger brother.

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. "Do your ribs feel weird?" she asked instead. "I mean, mine are a little sore, but nothing too bad." She ran a hand over hers for emphasis.

"Mine feel fine," Sam answered. Dean nodded in agreement.

"Okay. Then it's just me," Alex joked. "Probably from losing my frickin lungs." She turned back to her show.

"Uh, why are you wearing my clothes?" Sam finally asked.

Alex turned to look at him. "Because mine were wet. And my bag is still in the trunk. Your shirts are huge. I mean, seriously. I could fit another person in here." She pulled the extra fabric off to one side, showing them.

"They fit me just fine," Sam defended himself.

"What are we watching?" Dean changed the subject.

Alex shrugged. "Some show about solving murders." She saw Dean roll his eyes, but let it slide.


	26. Good God, Y'all

**November 18th, 2009**

**Baltimore, Maryland**

**"B** ored!" Alex suddenly called, making Sam jump. It was the afternoon of the next day, and Alex was watching tv, and Sam was on his laptop. Dean had gone to keep Bobby company, leaving behind Sam and his car.

Sam turned to face Alex. "You're always bored."

"I know!" Alex rolled onto her back, head hanging over the bed. She looked up at Sam, who had returned to his work. "Sammy. Help me!"

Sam sighed. "Stop. You're being annoying."

"Ugh!" Alex rolled over, accidentally falling off the bed. She landed with a thump. Sam laughed. "Not funny," she grumbled. She stood up. "Hey. I remember seeing a mall a few blocks away. I'm going there." She dug through her bag, pulling out twenty dollars.

"No, you're not." Sam stopped her.

She turned to face him. "Why not? I'm bored, and I'm not staying here."

"Well, you're not going out. I got in enough trouble with Bobby for last night."

"You left me outside in the rain," Alex reminded him.

"You came back inside," Sam shot back.

"I'm going. Adios." She reached the door, shoving her bad hand in her jacket pocket. She heard Sam stand up, but didn't stop her. She started heading towards the road.

"Get in." She turned to see Sam getting into the Impala. When she looked confused, he explained. "You want to go to the mall, we're going to the mall. Get in."

Alex let out a broad smile, but did as he said. He drove them down to the mall, pulling the car into the parking lot. They entered through the Barnes & Noble. "So what do you want to get?"

"I don't need anything." Alex narrowed her eyes. "I just wanted to get out of the motel. Ooh. Look." She led Sam over to a bookshelf. "Zeus."

 

 **S** he and Sam walked through the mall. A lot of the stores were clothing stores, so they didn't go in very many. At one point, Sam's phone rang. He answered. "Dean?" Pause. "We're, uh, at the mall." Another pause. "Yeah, she's here too. No, she's fine."

Alex rolled her eyes and took the phone. "Dean," she said, exasperated. "I'm totally fine. Okay? Sam's with me. Couldn't feel safer."

"I know, but I don't trust him," Dean said slowly. "Not anymore."

"I know you don't. But I do trust him. With my life. Goodbye." She hung up before Dean could protest.

"You trust me?" Sam turned to her. "Even after all I did?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, first, I tried to kill you. Second, I freed the freakin devil."

"Okay, first off, yes, that was stupid of you. But I still trust you. Second, I knew Lucifer was going to be freed by killing Lilith. I could have told you, but I didn't. It's my fault as much as it is yours. Team effort. See, what I don't understand is why you still trust _me_."

Sam was silent, and Alex let out a breath. A good smell reached her nose, and her head snapped up. "Ooh. Yum." She grabbed Sam by the hand, dragging him over to a cinnamon roll stand. "Want one?"

"Are you going to make me buy it?" Sam joked.

"Yeah." Alex looked up at him. "Please?" She pulled her best puppy face.

"Fine." Sam rolled his eyes. "It's not worth the fight." He bought two cinnamon rolls, one for her, and one for himself. They found a table in the food court, and sat down. "You almost ready to go back?" he asked her.

"Go back? We've only been here an hour!" Alex exclaimed. "You can't expect me to sit in that dingy motel room for multiple days in a row." She swallowed the last of her roll, then reached for Sam's. He slapped away her hand. Alex laughed. "Come on. Let's go find some plaid store for you."

"Plaid store?" Sam asked, confused.

"Oh yeah. Everyone knows you Winchesters love plaid. You'll wear plaid over plaid, plaid under plaid, or just plain plaid."

Sam chuckled. "We don't wear that much plaid," he defended himself.

"Save it for the judge." Alex stood up. "You going to finish that?"

"Of course."

"Of course," Alex echoed. "A growing boy needs to eat."

"I think I'm done growing."

"I don't think you know when to stop."

Sam shook his head. "Come on." He shoved the rest of the cinnamon roll into his mouth and stood up, and followed Alex down farther into the mall.

 

 **T** he next day, Alex found herself back at the hospital with Sam and Dean. She sat in Bobby's room, running over the conversation they had had with Zachariah back in the storage unit three days ago. She turned to Dean, who was leaning against the wall. "Hey, you remember when Cas said he carved those sigils into our ribs?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think he was serious? Like, did he actually carve them into our ribs, or is it more of an invisible thing?"

Dean turned to look at her. "Dunno." His eyes lit up. "Be right back." Alex watched him leave.

She sat there for several more minutes, lost in her own thoughts. Her stomach growled, and she got up to leave, casting a glance at Bobby. He was sitting in a wheelchair, wearing a bathrobe and a baseball cap, looking out the window. He hadn't moved in a very long time. Alex left the room, slipping by Sam, who was watching from the outside. She quickly made her way down to the vending machine, buying two candy bars. She split open one for herself, taking a bite. She brought the second one back down to Sam. She wordlessly handed it to him. He wordlessly accepted it.

 

 **A** few minutes later, Dean returned, holding a large manilla envelope. Alex nodded her head at him, giving him a silent 'hey'.

"It's been like, three days now?" Dean asked. Sam let out a loud sigh, and everyone's eyes were on Bobby. "We got to cheer him up. Maybe I'll give him a back rub."

"Have fun with that," Alex mumbled.

"Dean," Sam said at the same time.

"Well, what then?"

"Look. We might have to wrap our heads around the idea that Bobby might not just bounce back this time," Sam said quietly. Everyone was silent. "What's in the envelope?" Sam asked.

Alex looked down at it. It read 'X-Rays' in large red letters.

"Went to radiology." Dean glanced over at Alex. He opened up the envelope, pulling out several sheets of pictures. "Got some glamour shots." He handed them to Sam, and Alex leaned on his shoulder, trying to see. It took her a second to understand what she was looking at. It was obviously a x-ray of someone's ribs. Dean's, actually. But carved into every rib were strange symbols, stretching from the sternum all the way to the back.

"Wicked," Alex breathed. "That is so cool."

"Let's just say the doctors were baffled," Dean added.

"Holy crap."

"Yeah, well, Cas carved you one, too," Dean reminded them.

 _Right Cas._ Right on cue, Alex's phone rang. She hesitantly answered it. "Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Alex?"

"Uh, yeah. Cas?" A small smile appeared on Alex's lips.

"Speak of the devil," she heard Dean say. She held up a hand to quiet him.

"Where are you?" Castiel asked.

"Uh. St. Martin's Hospital. Why? What's wrong--Cas?" She paused. The line was dead. She hung up, confused. She stepped closer to Sam as a gurney and several nurses went by. When she returned back to her spot in the middle of the hallway, Castiel was walking up to them.

He stopped when he saw Alex's bandaged wrist. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing." Alex looked down at it. "Just picked a fight with a lamppost."

"Cellphone, Cas?" Dean asked. "Really? Since when do angels need to reach out and touch someone?"

"You're hidden from angels now. All angels. I won't be able to simply--"

"Enough foreplay," Bobby interrupted him. Everyone turned to look at him; it was the first he had spoken in quite a long time. "Get over here and lay you damn hands on me." When no one moved, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Get healing," he commanded Cas. "Now."

"I can't."

Bobby turned his wheelchair to face them. "Say again?" he threatened.

"I'm cut off from heaven and most of heaven's power." Castiel pushed past Sam and Dean into the room. "Certain things I can do. Certain things I can't."

"You're telling me you lost your mojo just in time for me to get stuck in this trap the rest of my life?" Bobby exclaimed. Alex stepped past the two Winchesters to stand behind Castiel.

"I'm sorry."

"Shove it up your ass." Bobby turned back to the window.

"At least he's talking now," Dean pointed out.

"I heard that," Bobby called over his shoulder. Alex sighed.

Castiel walked back over to Sam and Dean. "I don't have much time. We need to talk."

"Okay," Dean agreed.

"Your plan to kill Lucifer."

"Yeah. You want to help?" Dean guessed.

"No. It's foolish. It can't be done," Castiel corrected.

"Oh." Dean blinked. "Thanks for the support."

"But I believe I have the solution. There is someone besides Michael strong enough to take on Lucifer. Strong enough to stop the apocalypse."

Alex frowned. "I don't think . . ."

"Who's that?" Sam ignored her.

"The one who resurrected me and put you on that airplane. The one who began everything. God." He paused. "I'm going to find God."

Dean looked skeptical. He ushered Sam in the room and closed the door. "God?"

"Yes."

"God?"

"Yes," Castiel repeated. "He isn't in heaven. He has to be somewhere." Alex had to agree with his logic there.

"Try New Mexico. I heard he's on a tortilla."

The angel looked confused. "No, I don't think he's on any flatbread." Alex laughed, but was silenced.

"Listen, Chuckles, if there even is a God, he's either dead -- and that's the generous theory--"

"He's out there, Dean."

"-- or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us," Dean finished. Castiel glared at him, and even Alex felt offended. "I mean, look around you. The world is in the toilet. We are literally at the end of days here, and he's off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut. All right?"

"This is not a theological issue," Castiel said quietly. "It's strategic. With God's help, we can win."

"It's a pipe dream, Cas."

Castiel stepped closer to him, blue eyes blazing. "I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled. And I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. You and your brother have destroyed the world."

"And what about Alex?" Dean challenged. "Because I'm sure she's totally innocent in all of this." Alex let out an indignant cry. "She could have stopped all of it!"

"You don't understand!" Alex snapped. "I can't change anything. I'll only make it worse."

Castiel turned on her, their faces only inches apart. "I lost everything. For nothing," he said quietly, so quietly everyone else had to strain to hear. "And you just stood there and watched."

Alex closed her eyes, hurt by his words. She wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"You didn't drop in just to tear us a new hole," Bobby broke in. "What do you want?"

"I did come for something. An amulet."

"An amulet? What kind?"

"Very rare. Very powerful."

"Right," Alex said under her breath. "Cas, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Castiel turned back to her.

"If God doesn't want to be found, he can't be found. Amulet or not."

"I have to try." Castiel turned to Dean. "It burns hot in God's presence."

"A God EMF?" Sam asked. Castiel nodded.

"Well, I don't know what you're talking about," Bobby told him. "I don't have anything like that."

"I know. You don't." Castiel looked at Dean, then down at his necklace. Alex followed his gaze.

"What? This?" Dean looked down at it as well.

"May I borrow it?"

"No."

"Dean. Give it to me."

Dean was silent for a few seconds. Realizing Cas wasn't going to back down, he sighed. He took it off. "All, right, I guess." He held it out to Castiel. The angel took it. "Don't lose it," the hunter warned. Castiel nodded. "Great. Now I feel naked," Dean grumbled.

"I'll be in touch." With that, Castiel disappeared. Sam sighed.

"When you find God, tell him to send legs!" Bobby yelled after him. They stood there for a few seconds. Then Bobby's phone rang. He answered it. "Hello?" A slight pause. "I can't hear you."

"Who is it?" Alex asked.

"Rufus." He turned back to the phone. "Where are you?"

Pause.

"Colora- Colorado?"

Pause.

"River Pass, Colorado?"

Pause.

"Rufus, you there? Ruf-Rufus?" After a second, Bobby hung up, looking over at Sam and Dean. "You guys up for a ride?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "Uh, sure, I guess." Dean spoke for the both of them.

"Okay. River Pass, Colorado. Seems demons have the town on lock down. Rufus needs some help."

"River Pass?" Dean echoed. "Bobby, that's a full day's drive!"

"Then you better get going." Bobby shooed them out of the room.

 

 **T** hey got out, they packed, and they drove. 24 hours straight. No stopping. Except for pie. They stopped for pie. Most of the drive was in silence. Until Alex spoke. "I have a question."

"Hm?" Sam, who was driving, looked back at her.

"Okay. So, you kill a werewolf by shooting it with a silver bullet."

"Yeah."

"Actually, a silver knife would be more effective," Dean piped up. "Pure silver bullets are nowhere near accurate. Silver plated bullets aren't too bad. But expensive."

"Ah, okay. Anyways." Alex cleared her throat. "Stab it through the heart with a silver knife. _But_. What if you cut off it's head? With a plain old, classic machete? What would happen? I mean, would the head even come off? Would the head still be alive? What about the body? Both?"

There was a short pause. "Is this what you've been thinking about?" Dean asked.

"It's a legitimate question," Alex defended herself.

"I'm not sure," Sam answered her. "I've never tried it."

"What, thinking?" Alex teased.

"Cutting off a werewolf's head," Sam corrected her, exasperated. "If you shoot a vampire through the heart, it keeps living."

"What about demons? Rougarous? Why can't we just cut off their heads?"

Dean and Sam say quietly, puzzling over it. "I don't know. Maybe it just keeps living, or something." They fell back into silence.

 

**River Pass, Colorado**

**T** hey arrived near River Pass around 4 p.m. Dean slowed down the car, and Alex sat up. "We there?"

"Sort of," Dean answered. Alex looked out the windshield to see a bridge ahead of them. Or, at least, part of a bridge. The rest was collapsed. Both Sam and Dean got out of the car, and Alex followed. She peered over the edge. It didn't look too difficult to get across. The river wasn't too deep, and there were hundreds of stones to walk on, but bringing the Impala across? Impossible.

"This is the only road in or out," Dean informed them.

Sam pulled out his cell phone, searching for something. "No signal."

"Rufus was right. Demon's got this place locked down." Dean kicked a rock over the edge.

"Looks like we're hiking in."

Dean looked pained. "And the hits just keep on coming."

"Ah, come on, Dean," Alex protested. "We've been in that car all day. Time to do a little walking." She watched Dean go back to the car. He propped open the trunk, rifling through. Alex followed him back, curious. He tossed her a bag, and she stumbled back, surprised. He handed a bag to Sam, then took one for himself. Then, he distributed the shotguns, along with several extra rounds. Alex and Sam stepped back while Dean backed the car into the nearby woods, covering it with fallen branches and shrubs.

"And, we're off." Alex followed them down the steep ravine. She quickly passed them, easily reaching the bottom. "Come on," she urged them. "Move faster."

"Shut up," Dean grunted. Alex ignored him, scrambling up the other bank. When she got to the top, Dean and Sam had only started climbing back up.

Alex rolled her eyes, dropped her bags and guns, and slid back down to join them. "You guys are _slow_ ," she teased.

"Don't leave your gun," Dean reprimanded her. "The demons might find it."

"Fine." Alex rolled her eyes. She scrambled back up the cliff, scooping back her things back up. She scouted the area, checking for demons. "All clear," she called to them as they pulled themselves over the lip of the cliff.

"Not if you keep yelling like that," Dean retorted.

Alex rolled her eyes again. "And I thought Sammy was the un-fun one."

"I'm plenty of fun," Sam told her. "And don't call me Sammy." He stood up before Alex could reply. "Come on. We're wasting time."

They skirted the road into the seemingly abandoned suburbs. Alex cocked her gun, looking around. Ahead of them, there was a blue sedan laying in the street, overturned. Dean stopped to examine it, kneeling down. Alex stood watching, gun poised. She could hear music, and looked around, trying to pinpoint it. Dean stood up, indicating the car was empty. They continued down the street. Alex stepped carefully, her footsteps sounding extremely loud. Farther down, a sprinkler was still running in a yard. Next to it, there was another car. It was still right side up, but the driver's door was open, the engine still running. Sam leaned in, turning off the engine. The music stopped.

The houses stopped, and they entered the town. Above the entrance hung a brown banner for the town's 75th Anniversary. In the center of the road were several old, rusty cars, but one caught Alex's eye. A gleaming red Mustang convertible. She nodded appreciatively. Dean saw it too, letting out a low whistle.

Something else caught Alex's eye. Something definitely not as nice. A silver car was in the street, driver's door open, windshield smashed. A trail of blood led out of the car, and Alex deduced someone had been dragged. The blood trail was visible down the street, and Alex started to follow it. She froze when she heard the familiar click of a gun being cocked. She spun around, gun poised. Then she lowered it. She recognized the woman. Name? Couldn't remember. But she had seen that woman before. Long brown hair, harsh face. What was her name?

"Ellen?" Dean asked, lowering his gun as well. _Ellen. Right. Ellen Harvelle._

"Hello, boys." Ellen lowered her gun, stepping closer.

"Ellen? What the heck's going on here?" Dean exclaimed. He stopped when Ellen splashed him in the face with holy water. She immediately raised her gun, pointing it at Dean's face. He let the water drip down his face. "We're us." Alex approached, standing behind Sam.

Ellen turned to her, gun poised. Alex raised her hands. "Not a demon," she held out her hand. Ellen poured holy water over it. It didn't burn. Convinced, Ellen lowered the gun. She stepped between Sam and Dean and walked off towards the church. They followed, exchanging confused looks.

Ellen led them in. They walked to another door, which was lined with salt. Beyond the salt was a devil's trap. All three easily passed through. Ellen let them in, then turned to face Dean. "Real glad to see you boys," she said. She hugged Dean. Then she slapped him. "The can of whoopass I ought to open for you," she told him.

"Ow!"

"You can't pick up a phone? What are you, allergic to giving me peace of mind? I got to find out you're alive from Rufus?"

"Sorry, Ellen."

"Yeah, well you better be. You better put me on speed dial, kid."

"Yes, ma'am," Dean nodded. Alex snickered.

"And you are you?" Ellen turned to Alex.

"Uh, this is Alex." Dean stepped back to let her through.

"Hey." Alex strolled forward, extending a hand. Ellen took it.

"Alex?" she repeated. "You Bobby's girl?"

"Yeah," Alex sighed. "That's me."

Ellen turned, leading them farther into the church.

"Bobby's girl?" Dean whispered.

"Apparently. Been called that a lot, thank you very much." Alex left it at that. Everyone in Sioux Falls knew her as 'Bobby's girl.' Even the hunters who had never actually met her had heard of 'Bobby's girl.' Apparently that's what she got for living with someone like Bobby Singer.

"What's going on, Ellen?" Dean asked the hunter.

"More than I can handle alone."

"How many demons are out there?" Sam chimed in.

"Pretty much the whole town, minus the dead people and these guys." She stopped by closed double doors and turned to them. "So this is it? End times?"

Dean and Sam said nothing, but exchanged a glance. Alex decided to hold her tongue.

"It's got to be," Ellen added.

"Seem's like it," Sam admitted.

Ellen turned back to the door, knocking twice. "It's me," she called through it. There was a short pause, and then the door opened. Ellen entered, and Sam and Dean followed. Alex entered last, hearing the door close behind her. There were several people. Alex counted eleven. Three were female, one was pregnant. She looked rather nervous. Ellen introduced them. "This is Sam, Dean, and Alex. They're hunters. Here to help."

"You guys hip to this whole demon things?" A man with a rifle asked.

"Yeah. Are you?" Dean asked.

"My wife's eyes turned black. She came at me with a brick. Kinda makes you embrace the paranormal," another, older man explained. Alex grunted sympathetically.

"Okay." Dean turned to Ellen. "Catch us up."

"I doubt I know much more than you. Rufus called. Said he was in town investigating omens. All of a sudden, the whole town was possessed. Me and Jo were nearby--"

"You're hunting with Jo?" Dean interrupted.

"Yeah, for a while now. We got here and the place -- well, the place is like you see it now. Couldn't find Rufus. Then me and Jo got separated. I was out looking when I found you."

"Don't worry. We'll find her," Dean promised.

"Either way, these people cannot just sit here," Sam added. Alex looked around. Her eyes kept going back to the older man. He was studying the milk jug sitting in front of him, playing with the golden ring on his finger. "We got to get them out now." Sam finished.

"No, it's not that easy. I've been trying. We already made a run for it once."

"Alex?" Dean asked the youngest hunter. "Any of this sound familiar?"

"Got a couple theories." Truthfully, she had nothing. Not yet. When Ellen made a questioning noise, Dean started to explain. Alex cut him off before he could begin. "What happened? When you ran for it?"

"There used to be twenty of us." Ellen left the rest unsaid.

"Well, there's four of us now." Dean promised.

"You don't know what it's like out there," Ellen interrupted. "Demons everywhere. We won't be able to cover everybody."

"What if we get everyone guns?" Sam suggested.

"What? Are you going to arm up baby bump over there?" Dean asked him, referring to the pregnant lady, who's nervousness was now very evident.

"More salt we can fire at once, more demons we can keep away," Sam reminded him.

Dean looked over at the civilians, then back to Sam. "There's a sporting good store we passed on Main on the way in. I bet they've got guns." As if on a cue, they both dropped their bags.

"All right. You two stay. We'll go," Sam instructed them.

"What about--"

"If Jo and Rufus are out there, we'll bring them back." With that, Sam and Dean left. The first man closed the door behind them.

Ellen turned to Alex. "What did Dean by, 'any of this sound familiar?'"

Alex looked down at the ground. "Sometimes I just, know, what's going to happen. Well, only happened once. Or twice. But it keeps him asking," she quickly lied. It wasn't a total lie, but it was better than explaining the truth. She walked over to the man who had opened the door. She studied him. Short brown hair, brown jacket, brown eyes. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I'm Alex." She held out a hand.

"Austin." He shook it.

"How long as this been going on?"

"Two days."

"Hm." Alex left him sitting by the door. She wandered over to the other people.

"Alex."

Alex turned at her name. "Hm?"

"It's Alex, right?" the pregnant lady asked.

"Guilty." Alex sat down at the large table. "What about you? What's your name?"

"Ashley." she told him. "This is my husband, Jason."

"Taylor," the young girl chimed in.

"Roger." The older man nodded in greeting.

"Hey." Alex dipped her head as well. "Hell of a day, eh?"

"Hell of a past couple days," Jason corrected.

Alex nodded. "Right. How are you guys doing?" No one really answered. "Well, don't worry. We'll get you out."

No one looked really convinced. "We lost nine people last time," Roger reminded everyone.

"We lost my brother!" Taylor exclaimed, eyes watering.

"I know, and I'm sorry." Alex said calmly. "But we'll fix it. Me, Sam and Dean, it's what we do." She stood up and walked over to her bag, lost in her own thoughts.

 

 **A** bout ten minutes later, Sam and Dean came back through the door. Alex shot them a smile, standing up to help carry in the guns. They wordlessly distributed them to everyone. Alex settled down beside Taylor, showing her the basics. Ellen was helping Roger. Dean and Sam helped whoever needed it.

"Okay, all right." Roger nodded, trying to load his shotgun.

"Roger, hang on a second," Ellen tried to stop him.

Roger didn't listen, but ended up dropping the shell. "Sorry," he apologized.

"Here." Alex held out a shell to Taylor. "You try." Taylor hesitantly took it, but was successful in loading it. "Good job," Alex praised her. She smiled shyly. Αlex stood up and walked over to Dean, who was talking with Austin.

"You know your way around a gun at all?" he was asking.

Austin responded by quickly stripping the gun, laying down before Dean. Alex was impressed.

"Hm." Dean nodded. "Where'd you serve?"

"Fallujah. Two tours. Got back a little over a year ago. Takes one to know one. Where'd you serve?"

"Hell."

Austin let out an amused snort. "No. Seriously."

"Seriously. Hell." Dean walked over to Sam, who was sitting by himself.

Alex started followed him, but was stopped by Austin. "What does he mean by hell?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. He never talks about it," she lied smoothly.

"Come on, Sammy, you had to," Dean was saying. Alex walked over to them.

"I know, it's just -- it use to be like--" he paused, searching for the right words. "I just wish I could save people like I use to."

"What, you mean when you were all hopped up on demon blood?"

"I didn't say that." Sam defended himself.

"I'll be back." Ellen broke into their small talk.

"Where you going?" Dean asked, looking up to see the hunter standing right in front of them.

"I can't sit here on my ass. My daughter's out there somewhere. I'm not back in half an hour, go. Get these people out of here."

"No, wait. I'll go with you." Sam stood up.

"Whoa, hold on. Can I talk to you for a second?" Dean dragged Sam away, leaving Ellen with Alex. She looked up at the older hunter, and shrugged.

"So how's Bobby doing?" Ellen asked, waiting for the two Winchesters to come back.

"Eh, he's, um, doing fine," Alex lied. "I think once he gets over the wheelchair aspect of it, he'll be okay."

"He's in a wheelchair?" Ellen exclaimed. "What happened?"

"He was possessed by a demon, who was trying to beat up Dean. Somehow, Bobby managed to get back control and stabbed himself in the gut with the demon knife."

There was a loud thump, and both Alex and Ellen looked through the open door where Sam and Dean had disappeared. Alex saw Dean stumbled back into the wall. Sam said something, then reentered the room. "Let's go," he told Ellen. They grabbed their guns, then left. Dean walked passed Alex, obviously not in the mood to talk.

 

 **F** ive minutes passed. Alex sat, watching Dean pace about. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want," the pastor quietly read aloud. "He layeth me down in green pastures, and he raiseth me up again. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil." Alex looked around. Everyone was sitting quietly, nervousness evident on their faces.

Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door. Dean hurried over, looking through the peep hole. He opened it, and Ellen rushed through. Alone. Alex stood up, hurrying over to her.

"Where's Sam?" Dean demanded.

Ellen shook her head. She sat down next to Taylor, who silently handed her a bottle of water. "They took him?" Ashely cried out. "The demons took him? Oh my god. What if they're in here? The demons?"

"Sh," Alex soothed her. "Calm down. No demons can make it past that devil's trap."

"Could they get in?" the pastor asked Dean at the same time.

"No," Dean said curtly. He grabbed a shotgun and swiftly walked towards the door. "Everybody hang tight. I got to--"

"Dean." Alex stopped him. Dean looked back at everyone. "These people are depending on you," she mouthed to him.

He understood, and reluctantly walked back over. "Okay, we need to get a plan together. Tell me everything."

"Dean, one of them's in Jo. We got to get it out without hurting her." She paused, and let out a snort. "It called me a bitch."

"Bruise a little easy, don't you think?" Dean snorted as well.

"No, that's not what I meant. It called me a black-eyed bitch."

Alex narrowed her eyes. "So she thought _you_ were the demon?"

"What kind of demons are these?" Ellen continued. "Holy water and salt roll right off. My daughter may be an idiot, but she's not stupid. She wears an anti-possession charm. It's all kind of weird, don't you think?"

"Oh." A bright smile lit up Alex's face. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh." She turned to the pastor. "Bible, please?"

"What's up?" Dean looked interested.

"Uh, Ellen. You said Rufus came here because of some omens? What specifically?"

"Uh, something about water, I think."

"The river. It ran polluted all of a sudden," the pastor spoke up.

"When?" Dean shot him a glance.

"Last Wednesday. The next day the demon thing started up."

"Anything else?" Alex asked, flipping through the Bible's pages. _Where was it?_

"Maybe, but it's pretty random."

"Random. Good. Random is very good." Alex didn't even look up.

"Shooting star. Does that count? It was big, same day."

"Found it." Alex could barely contain her smile. "Revelations 8:10-11: 'The third angel sounded its trumpet, and a great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky on a third of the rivers and on the springs of water -- the name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the water turned bitter, and many people died."

"Revelations? So are we talking apocalypse?" the pastor asked.

"Ah, but that's not the best part," Alex crowed. "Here's what we are dealing with. Revelations 6:4: 'Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given the power to take peace from earth and to make men slay each other."

There was a short pause. "So what, we're dealing with the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?"

"Nope. Just one. War." Alex looked around. "Wait. Where's Roger?"

Everyone looked around, realizing he was indeed missing. "What's Roger got to do with it?" Dean asked. His eyes narrowed at he put the two together. "He doesn't look like a horseman type of guy. Besides, it says he's riding a red horse."

"Oh, Dean-o, you can be so thick," Alex chuckled. "He's not riding a horse. Too old-fashioned. No. Remember that nice red Mustang we saw outside?" She let them connect the dots. "We are dealing with War."

"Okay," Dean seemed to wrap his head around it. "So, maybe War's here, you know, messing with our heads. He makes us think they're demons, and they think we're demons. So maybe there's no demons at all."

"Bingo."

"So we're just killing innocent people. How do we stop him?"

"His ring. We need to take away his ring."

"Wait," the pastor interrupted them. "So it's the apocalypse?"

"Sorry, padre," Dean nodded.

"It's Apocalypse Now," Alex added.

"Did you just quote Zachariah?" Dean asked her slowly.

"Uh, maybe. Hard to tell." Alex thought carefully. "I mean, half the things I say are quotes you guys just haven't heard or said yet."

"Uh, okay." Dean seemed slightly unnerved. "So now what?"

"So let me get you straight. Now, there are no demons, we're just killing our neighbors, and Roger is one of the Horsemen?" Austin asked.

"Uh, yeah."

There was pounding on the door, and Austin jumped to his feet. "Open up! It's Roger."

"Don't tell him he's War," Alex warned everyone.

"Why not? Because he might get offended and prove he's innocent?"

"Uh, no. Because he might kill you."

Austin opened the door, letting Roger in. Alex closed her mouth and watched him, not wanting to give anything away. She hoped the others would take her advice and do the same.

"I saw them, the demons. They know we're trying to leave. They said they're going to pick us off one by one."

"Wait, what?" Dean glanced at Alex. She mouthed, _Liar_ , back to him.

"I thought you said there were no demons!" Austin exclaimed.

"There's not." Alex said stubbornly. "Roger, why were you outside?"

"I was keeping watch," he stammered out.

"And I don't suppose you were going to tell us this?"

Roger, unable to come up with an excuse, twisted the ring around his finger.

"Dean," Alex hissed, "the ring."

"Look, she's a demon!" Roger exclaimed, taking several steps back. Alex turned to look at Dean, who recoiled as well.

"Oh, please." Alex rolled her eyes. "We both know I can't be possessed. They tried, remember? With Meg?"

"There all demons!" Roger cried again, this time pointing to Dean and Ellen. The pastor reached for a shotgun.

"We should get out of here." Alex sped for the door, throwing it open and dashing up the steps. Shots were fired, but they escaped up the stairs unscathed. "Good thing we didn't teach them to aim," Alex said dryly.

"Now where?"

"Uh, let's go get Sam?" Alex suggested. Dean shrugged, letting her take control. "And where is he?"

"Uh, some house somewhere?" Alex didn't know.

"This way." Ellen led them down the street. There was smoke coming out of one chimney. "They're in there." Alex started going up the stairs. "Wait." Ellen stopped her.

"Oh. Thinking it's rigged?" Alex asked. When Ellen nodded, Alex nodded as well. "How do we check?"

"Go over there," Ellen told her.

Alex did as she said, going around the porch, out of view. She heard a large explosion, quickly followed by scuffling. She ran out to see Rufus and Dean fighting on the porch. Dean had Rufus pinned against the wall. "Listen to me," Dean said angrily. "I'm not a demon. Think, Rufus. All the omens."

"You go to hell," Rufus hissed. He kicked Dean in the crotch, then punched him several times in the chest and face. Dean fell away, and Rufus launched himself towards his dropped gun. Alex jumped in, pulling him back. Dean joined in, heaving Rufus backwards. He pinned him back against the wall, and Alex rushed for the gun.

"Rufus! The polluted water, the shooting star, the red Mustang? It's War! I'm telling you, it's War."

"You're damn right it is." Rufus punched Dean, looking for his gun. He saw Alex holding it, and charged her.

Dean tackled the hunter to the ground." The horsemen!" he explained.

"Horsemen?" Rufus repeated,

"Yes. He's turning us against each other. You're hallucinating."

Rufus stopped struggling, looking up at Dean. "The horsemen. War." His eyes cleared from black.

"Yes."

Rufus looked around. "Did you figure this out all by yourself, genius?"

"No. Alex did."

Rufus looked over at Alex. "Alex?"

"Yeah. Hey."

Dean let Rufus up, and he approached the girl. "I always knew you were smart," he said, letting out a toothy grin.

"I am very clever," Alex agreed, handing him back his gun. They heard struggling inside, and hurried in. They froze when Ellen raised a gun at them.

"Whoa, whoa." Dean held up his hands.

"We all on the same page?" Ellen looked at Rufus. All three nodded.

"Good."

"Hi Jo." Dean looked over at the Ellen's blonde daughter.

"Hey."

"Okay. We've got to find War before everybody in this town kills each--" Dean was cut off by a round of gunshots. They all ducked. "Dammit! Where's Sam?"

"Upstairs," Rufus told him. Dean rushed up the stairs.

Alex turned to Jo. "Hey. Name's Alex." She smiled, then took off after Dean. She saw Dean throw open a door. She hurried after them.

"It's War." Both Sam and Dean told each other at the same time.

"It's the ring." Sam told Dean as he was cut free.

"Yeah, I know. Alex remembered."

Alex gave Sam a little wave. "When he twists the ring--"

"--everyone starts hallucinating and goes hell-bitch," Dean finished.

"Uh, yeah," Alex repeated. "Hell-bitch."

There was noise from the front of the house, and Alex walked over to the window to see the people from the church. They stood outside, shotguns in hand.

Dean joined her. "Come on. We've got to move."

"Where?"

"To get the ring." Dean led them out the door and down the stairs. They ran out of the house, meeting no resistance.

"Where are we going to get the ring?"

"Mustang," Dean told him. "Still got the knife?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam motioned to his jacket pocket.

"Good."

They made their way down Main Street and to the convertible. "Still here," Alex noted. "We should probably hide." They quickly hid themselves behind the silver minivan.

After a few minutes, Dean motioned that War was coming their way. After a second's pause, he slipped out from behind the car and approached. Both Sam and Alex followed. They quietly walked up behind him. Suddenly Dean jumped at the horseman, holding his arms and head still. Sam drew the demon knife.

"Whoa, okay. That's a sweet little knife," War spoke. "But you can't kill War, kiddos."

"Oh, we know," Dean said, voice slightly strained as he held the struggling horsemen.

Sam grabbed War's right hand, slamming it against the car. He brought the knife down on his four fingers, slicing them off. The ring fell off, rolling on the ground. It came to a stop by Alex's feet.

Alex knelt on the ground, picking it up. When she looked up, both the horsemen and the Mustang were gone. Dean and Sam were just as surprised. Alex rolled the ring between her fingers. "We should get out of here."

"First we should make sure Ellen and the others are okay," Dean argued.

"Uh, yeah. Right." Right now, Alex didn't feel like confronting them again. "You guys go do that, I'll go get our stuff." Without waiting for a reply, she hurried off towards the church. She went down the stairs, repacking and slinging both her's and Dean's bag over one shoulder, and Sam's backpack over her other. The room was empty, but Alex didn't question it. She picked up their three shotguns, and, taking one last look around the room, left.

 

 **S** he waited up by the end of the road. A few minutes later, Dean and Sam walked up to her. She handed them their stuff. "How is everyone?"

"The pastor got shot, but he should be okay," Dean reported. "Everyone else just has minor scratches."

"Good," Alex nodded. "Can we go know?"

"Okay." Dean took the lead, and Alex trailed after him in silence. They climbed down the ravine, across the river, and then back up to their car. By that time, the sun was starting to set in the sky.

"That was a _long_ day," Alex groaned after tossing her stuff into the trunk. She collapsed in the backseat. "So, food and a room?"

Dean looked back at her, starting the car. "Sounds like a decent plan. Sammy?"

"Fine." Sam slumped in the front seat.

 

 **D** ean drove back down the road. They stopped at the nearest town, getting a quick meal before finding a cheap motel. The first thing Alex did was take a shower, loving the feeling of the hot water running over her sore muscles. Not much was said that night, and she collapsed in the bed, too tired to care.

 

 **T** hey slept late that next day. Alex had woken up with nightmares, but now couldn't remember them for her life. They ate a quick breakfast in town before gassing up the car and heading out.

 

 **A** round lunch, they stopped at a rest stop. They had tacos for lunch at a concrete picnic table, and afterwards, Alex remembered to give Dean the ring. "Here." She fished it out of her pocket.

"Thanks." He took it, studying it closely. "So, pit stop at Mount Doom?"

Alex laughed, but Sam didn't respond.

"Dean--" he finally began.

"Sam, let's not."

"No, listen. This is important. I know you don't trust me."

Dean looked away, and Alex did the same, feeling uncomfortable.

"Just, now, I realize something. I don't trust me either," Sam admitted. Dean looked up. "From the minute I saw that blood, the only thought in my head . . . and I tell myself it's for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it, it feels true, you know? But I think, underneath . . . I just miss the feeling. I know how messed up that sounds, which means I know how messed up I am." Sam took a deep breath. "Thing is, the problem's not the demons' blood. Not really. I mean I, what I did, I can't blame the blood or Ruby or . . . anything. The problem's me. How far I'll go. There's something in me that . . . scares the hell out of me. Dean, in the last couple of days, I caught another glimpse . . ."

"So what are you saying?" Dean cut off his monologuing.

"I'm in no shape to be hunting," Sam explained. "I need to take a step back, 'cause I'm dangerous. Maybe it's best we just . . . go our separate ways."

Alex looked shocked, and looked over at Dean, who looked like he was actually considering this. "Well, I think you're right," he finally said. Sam looked shocked and hurt.

"Dean," Alex said sharply.

"I was expecting more of a fight." Sam admitted.

"The truth is I spend more time worrying about you than doing the job right. And I just, I can't afford that, you know? Not now."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"I know you are, Sam."

Sam stood up to go. Alex watched, not wanting him to go, but not wanting to be in the middle of it. "And it's not like you'll be alone. You still have Alex."

"Yeah, I guess so." Dean looked over at her. She looked up at him. "Hey, uh, do you want the Impala?"

"It's okay." Sam started to walk away before turning to look back at Dean. "Take care of her, Dean. And yourself."

"Yeah, you too Sammy." Dean watched his brother walk away.

"See you around, Sam," Alex called after him.

Sam looked back, but didn't answer. He walked to the parking lot, and Alex watched him stop beside the Impala, pulling his bags out of the backseat. He walked over to a blue pick-up truck. He exchanged a few words with the driver before getting in and driving off. Alex looked over at Dean, seeing the sadness in his face. She leaned into his shoulder, trying to give him a wordless sense of comfort.

They sat there for a few more minutes before Dean stood up. "Let's go," he told her quietly.

Alex silently got up, grabbed the bag of pretzels, then followed him over to the Impala. She started to get into the backseat. Dean stopped her. "I guess you get shotgun now," was all he said. Alex nodded, getting into the front seat.

They drove off.


	27. Who Ya Gonna Call?

**A** few hours later, Bobby called them. Alex answered. "Hello?"

"Alex? Bobby."

"Oh, hey, Bobby." Alex looked over at Dean. "Uh, what's going on?"

"I've been trying to call you since yesterday."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Alex apologized. "River Pass didn't have a signal, and I was too tired to answer last night. Sorry."

"So you guys are done in River Pass? How'd it go?"

"Uh, it went fine, I suppose. Uh, Rufus and Ellen and Jo are okay."

"Wait?" Ellen and Jo were there?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Speaker phone," Dean told her. Alex complied. "Hey, Bobby?"

"Dean?"

"Yeah."

"How'd you handle the demon thing?"

"Uh, turns out it wasn't actually demons. It was War."

"War?"

"Yeah. Four horsemen War," Alex explained. "He was making people hallucinate. Half the town thought the second half were demons, the second half thought the first half were demons."

The other end was silent for a few seconds. "So how are you guys doing?"

"Uh, fine, fine." Dean told him. "How about you?"

"As good as I can be without legs. Listen. The hospital says I can go. So, hurry up and get your asses over here and get me out."

Alex and Dean exchanged a glance. "Uh, yeah, okay, Bobby. We'll get you out tomorrow morning when we get back."

"How's Sam?" Bobby asked. "I haven't hear his voice yet."

"Uh, we're going to have to call you back," Dean said. He reached over and ended the call.

 

**Baltimore, Maryland**

**T** hey drove non-stop back to St. Martin's Hospital. They got there late that night, and crashed at the same motel they had stayed at several nights ago. Not much was said, apart from necessary words.

 

 **T** he next morning, they sat down for a quick breakfast before heading back over to the hospital. They went down to Bobby's room to find him still sitting in his wheelchair, and still wearing his dirty baseball cap. However, this time, he was fully dressed. He turned when the door was opened, watching Dean and Alex step in.

The first thing out of his mouth was, "Where's Sam?"

Dean and Alex exchanged a glance.

"Dean," Bobby looked at his brother. "Is Sam okay?"

"Yeah, Sam's fine," Dean answered slowly. "He, uh, decided he needed to take a break from hunting."

"Nothing happened I hope."

"No, nothing that big. He, uh, we just talked it over, and agreed it was for the best."

There was silence. Finally, Bobby spoke up. "Well, we going to leave or what?"

Dean silently nodded, and walked out the door, leaving Alex and Bobby alone.

"How you doing, girl?"

"Fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Fair enough." Bobby started wheeling himself towards the door. Alex held it open for him. She watched him go down the hall, following at a distance.

Dean checked Bobby out, then helped him into the front seat of the car. He folded the wheelchair, putting it in the trunk. Alex got into the backseat. They drove off, silent.

 

 **"S** o, War, huh?"

"Yup."

"How'd you figure that one out?"

"That was me," Alex admitted, slightly proud. "I remembered."

"Hm." Bobby just grunted, and Alex felt momentarily crushed. "Good for you, girl," he finally added. Alex smiled at the praise, leaning back in contentment.

 

**December 10th, 2009**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**T** hey were back in Bobby's house within the next day. Dean helped him into his house. "You sure you're okay?" he asked as Bobby wheeled his way into the study.

"I'm fine," Bobby insisted. "Who are you, my mother?"

"Bobby, you're in a _wheelchair_ ," Alex said, exasperated. "Of course we're worried."

"I'll be fine. I'll sleep on the couch, and everything I need in on this floor."

Alex shook her head, knowing she couldn't win. "Fine. But you _will_ let Craig check in on you whenever he can, okay? He's a nice man. And Rufus is just a few minutes away. You two are friends again, right? And Charlie and Duncan and Garth are around too."

"Stop talking," Bobby grumbled.

Alex ended with a huff.

"Listen, Bobby. We're just worried about you," Dean began. "We don't want you to get hurt or something."

"I said I'm fine."

Alex and Dean left it at that, knowing his pride was hurt more than anything else.

 

 **T** hey stayed with him for several days, making sure he was getting on well. One day, while they were sitting in the kitchen, Bobby wheeled himself in. "Got you a case." He tossed a stack of papers onto the table. "Sounds like a ghost case."

Dean took it. "Down in Tennessee." He looked up. "So?"

"So you guys are gonna drive down and take care of it."

"What about you?"

"It ain't like you're gonna stay here forever. I'll be fine. I've got friends."

Alex sighed, glancing up at Dean. "He's got a point," she said quietly. "Craig can help him if he needs it."

Dean hesitated, then let out a long breath. "Fine. But we'll be checking in."

"Whatever." Bobby waved them off. "Now hurry up and get on with it."

 

 **T** hey were in the car and on the road within the next five minutes. Alex got shotgun, something she still wasn't use to. "You know, I'm not sure if I like this," she finally admitted.

"Hunting?" Dean guessed. "Yeah. It's crappy."

"No."

"Oh. Then riding for hours on end?"

"No. I'm _know_ I don't like riding in here for hours on end. Close though."

"Then what?" Dean turned his head to look at her.

"Riding shotgun." Alex rested her head against the window. "There's no real room to stretch out my legs. Usually I get the whole backseat to myself. Here it's crowded and confining."

Dean let out a snort of amusement before cranking up the music, signaling the end of their conversation. Alex pulled her legs up onto the seat, watching the scenery fly by.

 

**December 14th, 2009**

**Dover, Tennessee**

**T** hey arrived in Tennessee the next morning. Alex got out of the car, watching Dean. She had slept some in the car, but he had driven all night. He yawned, going to check them into a room. Alex got their bags out of the trunk and waited.

Once inside the motel room, Dean lay down on the nearest bed. Within a few minutes he was fast asleep. Alex's stomach growled, and the image of the IHOP down the road flashed through her mind. The car keys were in Dean's pocket, and she approached, gently rolling him over and reaching into his pocket to pull out the keys. Dean didn't wake. Alex grabbed some cash and hurried out the door.

When she got back, Dean was still asleep. She put the keys down on the table and sat down, opening up the take-out box full of pancakes. Not waiting for him to wake, she started eating.

It wasn't long before the smell woke Dean. "Wha . . ."

"Morning." Alex looked up. "Pancakes."

Dean rolled over, yawning. "What kind?"

"Chocolate chip and, uh, strawberry."

Dean walked over to her. "Where from?" He sat down in the other chair, yawning again.

"IHOP down the road."

"Hm." Dean helped himself. "Thanks."

Alex finished eating and pulled out his laptop. She typed in Dean's password, which was still _Impala1979_ , and pulled up the newspaper article Bobby had given them. "Okie dokie. So. Murdered guy." She looked up at Dean.

"Yup."

"Close your mouth," Alex muttered.

Dean grinned, and finished chewing. "Yup," he repeated. "Guy stabbed and strangled."

"So this is a case why?" Alex leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. "Yuck. I'm so tired, Dean."

"You slept the entire car ride," Dean pointed out dryly.

Alex looked up the hunter. "That's not what I mean," she sighed, head in her hands. "Do you, uh, do you think Sam's okay?"

"Sam's fine." Dean's voice took on a note of sympathy. "He's a big boy, and he'll look after himself." He sighed. "Listen. If you want, we can take a few days off. Hit this case hard later."

Alex shook her head. "I don't think that's allowed."

"Allowed?" Dean snorted. "The only rule in hunting is don't die. Seriously. No one will blame you if you want to take a day or two off."

Alex looked up at Dean. "If I wanted a vacation, I would have gone with Sam."

Dean frowned. "I wouldn't have let you go with Sam."

Alex frowned as well. "Well, then if I wanted a vacation, I would have stayed with Bobby." She spun the laptop towards Dean. "Here. See anything of any importance?"

Dean took it, licking the syrup off of his fingers. "Well, I don't know." He scrolled through the page mindlessly. "Doesn't say much of any help." He stood up. "I'll go down to the police station and see what I can find."

"Alright, I'll just stay here."

"Yeah." Dean picked up his suit and walked towards the bathroom.

Alex took back the laptop and pulled back up the article.

A minute later Dean emerged, buttoning up his white shirt. "You should get some sleep," he told her, reaching for his tie. "You do look pretty worn."

Alex shook her head, rubbing her eyes. "Maybe later. Besides, I slept all last night while you drove."

"Yeah, well I've been running on three hours of sleep since before you were born." Dean slipped on his suit jacket then pulled out a pair of socks.

"Uh, no." Alex looked up, frowning. "Black socks, mister. No one's ever gonna believe you're FBI if you wear white socks."

Dean stuck his tongue, but tossed his white socks back towards his bag. Then he pulled out a pair of black socks and pulled them on. "Fine. You're worse than Sam."

It was Alex's turn to stick out her tongue. "Am not."

Dean grabbed his phone and pocketed it. Then he pulled on his black overcoat and slipped his FBI badge into the inside pocket. "If you find anything, call. But don't call if I'm busy." With that, he walked out the door.

"Busy?" Alex yelled after him. "How am I suppose to know if you're busy?!" With a sigh, she let it slide.

As the door closed, Alex opened a new tab. _Bellwood Mansion_. Enter. Several pages came up, and Alex lazily browsed through them.

 

 **H** er phone rang half an hour later. Alex answered. "Hey."

"Find anything?"

"Uh, yeah." Alex turned her attention to the computer screen. "Bellwood Mansion. Built in 1876 by George Bellwood. He had a wife and a son. Son had some sort of, uh, a psychotic breakdown. Went totally insane, died two years later. He was eight years old." Dean grunted in acknowledgment, and Alex continued. "Mom was also driven mad by the death of her only child, and she died a few years later. And then George offed himself." Alex sighed, putting her elbow on the table. "Damn, sounds like a receipt for a haunting."

"Anything else? Where were they buried."

"Uh," Alex scrolled down. "St. Opius' Cemetery."

"Damn. Can't be them. Not if they're buried on holy ground." With that, Dean hung up.

Alex grumbled under her breath. She typed in _St. Opius Cemetery, Dover TN_ into the search box. Enter. Alex opened the first page. "Damn."

 

 **T** hey ate at a local diner. As they slid into the booth, Dean slid a folder over to her. "Autopsy photos and police reports," he explained.

"Ooh." Alex immediately pulled it close. "Anything interesting?"

"Well, whatever it was, it cut him up pretty good." Dean trailed off as the waitress approached.

"Hello!" the waitress smiled cheerfully. "Can I get you guys anything to drink?"

"Beer, please."

"Mountain Dew." Alex closed her menu.

"And," Dean added, "I think we're ready to order. I'll have the bacon cheeseburger."

"Ditto."

"Ah. Okay then. Your food will be right out!" The waitress flounced away.

"I don't like her," Alex muttered. "She's too happy."

"She's hot," Dean added. Seeing Alex roll her eyes, he smirked. "Jealous?"

Alex looked up at him. "Jealous? Of her. No thank you."

"You're denial speaks a thousand words."

Alex counted out on her fingers. "Nope. It only speaks six." She turned back to the police reports. "So. You didn't find anything weird?"

Dean shrugged. "The crime scene was spotless. Not a trace of anything."

"Could be a ninja," Alex suggested mindlessly.

Dean looked thoughtful. "Could be a ninja," he agreed.

"I looked up the cemetery they were buried in." Alex leaned back slightly as the waitress put their drinks on the table. "Turns out St. Opius was torn down years ago. All the graves were moved to a local public cemetery. That's not holy ground anymore. They could be back."

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Good work."

 

 **T** heir food was brought out, and Alex quickly closed the folder. Dean thanked the waitress. "That was fast."

"Yes it was! Anything else I can get you?"

"No thank you."

Dean watched the waitress walk away, and Alex kicked him in the shins."Case first." She took a huge bite of her food, reopening the folder. She flipped through the autopsy photos. "Nasty."

"How can you even look through that while eating?" Dean took a long swig of his beer.

"It's easier when you can't smell the formaldehyde." Alex took another bite, looking through the bloodied pictures. She had to admit it made her a bit nauseous, but there was no way in hell she would let Dean win this one.

"Whatever." Dean picked up his food. "Just, if you find anything, tell me _after_ I've finished eating."

Alex laughed. "Aye aye, captian." She swirled a fry around in her ketchup, studying the papers. "So. Are we checking out the house tonight?"

"If you want, sure. I can do it by myself, though."

Alex frowned. "Why would you say that?"

Dean shrugged. "You said you were tired. I just figured you'd want the day off."

"Dean, Sam isn't here. There are two of us. I'm gonna pull my own weight, even if I don't want to."

"It won't hurt to take a night off." Dean reached across and grabbed the police report. "Seriously. Just relax for a while."

"We'll see." Alex hurriedly closed the folder as the waitress walked by. "So. Yes or no. She hot?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"I mean, by girl standards, she'd be pretty hot." Alex watched as the waitress swayed her hips before returning her gaze to the man across from her. "But what do you think?"

She swore Dean blushed. "What? You trying to hook me up?"

"Huh? No. No! Don't be stupid. You don't need any help. You're already hot enough." Alex blushed slightly, but she ignored it.

"Uh, thanks." Dean took a large bite, finishing off his hamburger. "You think I'm hot, huh?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, I'd have to be blind not to."

"Or gay."

"No. I'm pretty sure you turn gay chicks straight." Alex pulled a thoughtful face. "You could probably turn straight guys gay." _That_ made Dean blush. So Alex continued. "You ever had a guy hit on you?"

"I think we're done here." Dean pulled out cash from his pocket, throwing it down on the table. He stood up.

Alex gathered up the papers. "So that's a yes? Damn, boy. Did he buy you a drink? Maybe you guys went--"

"Shut up." Dean stalked out of the restaurant and to the car.

Alex scampered after him. "Was he cute?" She held back a snigger. "Top or bottom?"

Suddenly Alex was spun around and pinned against the Impala. "I have _never_ fucked a guy, alright?"

Alex blinked. Dean looked pissed. "Alright, alright. Sorry. Geez."

Dean let her go and stalked around to the other side of the car. He got in, and the engine purred to life. Alex slid into the front seat. "By the way," Dean added, his attitude brought back to simple and breezy, "I'd totally be top."

Alex grinned. "But--"

"No. Nope. I am one hundred percent straight. You get it? Straight as an arrow."

Alex huffed. "Yeah. A wobbly one."

Dean shot her a glance. "Fine," he relented. "That was pretty good." Before Alex could respond, he turned up the volume, and ACDC blasted from the speakers. They drove away.

 

 **I** t was one in the morning, and Alex was being shaken awake. "What?"

Dean threw back the covers. "I'm leaving for the mansion. You still want to come?"

"Yeah." Alex struggled to get out of bed. "I'm good." She quickly threw on some clothes, grabbed a bottle of root beer out of the fridge, and stumbled after Dean into the car.

 

Ten minutes later, Dean pulled the car up to an empty street. "Come on." He got out and circled around to thee trunk. Alex tossed her empty bottle into the backseat and followed.

Dean handed her her sawed off, and Alex quickly made sure it was loaded before shoving a few extra rounds into her pockets. "Now where?" She accepted a flashlight from the older hunter.

"There it is." Dean motioned off down the street to a large pale house. "Six foot iron fences, padlocks on all the doors."

"Oh. Okay.”

Dean grunted in agreement. "Property's privately owned, but no one lives there. It should be completely empty." With that, he led the way down the street.

They stopped at the large cast iron gate. "There might be another way in through the back," Dean suggested.

"Or . . ." Alex pushed on the gate. It opened with a slow creak. "Wasn't locked."

"It should be." Dean's confusion was clear even in the faint moonlight. "Hell, it's always locked. There was a murder here two days ago!"

"Well, it's open now." Alex stepped onto the overgrown lawn.

Dean followed, eyes flickering around. But all he said was, “Alright.”

They circled around to the back of the house. The cellar door was locked. Dean dropped his duffle bag and knelt down, pulling out his lock-picking kit. “You sure you want to go in through the cellar?” Alex whispered, flashlight bobbing across the grass.

“We’ll start at the bottom, work our way up.”

“You know, the last time I was in a haunted house, I killed a little girl.” Alex sat down beside Dean as he let out a small curse, trying the lock again.

“You did the right thing.”

Alex leaned her back against the wall. “Three years ago, I never would have imagined that I would have killed two human beings by now.”

“They were monsters.” Dean didn’t even look up. The words sounded rehearsed, and Alex suspected he had had this conversation with himself many times. “They got what they deserved.” The lock clicked open, and Dean looked up. His eyes flashed in the moonlight. “We did what we had to do.” Without waiting for an answer, he opened the cellar door and disappeared inside.

Alex followed.

The darkness inside was only broken by the dim light of their flashlights. Dean took the lead, turning down a concrete hall. He paused, then sneezed. “Dammit,” he growled.

Alex grinned. “Bless you.” She looked around. “It looks like no one’s been down here in years.”

“They probably haven’t.” Dean’s flashlight darted across one of the walls. “Who’s suppose to be haunting this?”

Alex shrugged. “Legends don’t really say. There’s just suppose to be a lot of paranormal and satanic activity.”

“Great. Demons and ghosts.” Before Alex could respond, he added, “I know what you’re going to say, and don’t. I know the difference between demonic and ‘satanic’ activity.”

Alex smirked, but that faded as she continued down the hall. She stopped in front of one of the open doors. “Holy hell.”

“What?” Dean joined her, peering inside the room. A iron bed frame sat against the far corner, a ragged and brutally torn mattress on top. There was little else; a feeble nightstand, and a broken rocking chair. There were nonsensical drawings on the walls.

Alex reluctantly stepped inside. “You think this was the kid’s room?”

“I don’t know what this is.” Dean followed her in, closing the door slightly behind them to look behind it. He turned back to the rest of the room. “Seems a little brutal, you know? Keeping him down here?” He looked up towards the ceiling, where a single bulb hung from a socket. “There’s plenty of room upstairs.”

“Hello?”

Both Dean and Alex froze. With a single glance, both killed their flashlights. Alex shifted closer to Dean as the darkness pressed down on them.

There were low murmured voices. “Are you Jonny Bellwood?” a man called. A faint light appeared from the hallway; it grew stronger as the voices approached. Then they stopped, whispering once again. Then, “Can you knock for us?”

Alex looked up at Dean. She leaned up. “They’re fucking ghost hunters,” she murmured. “I got this.” Before Dean could respond — or remind her to watch her language for that matter — Alex stepped forward and pounded once on the wall.

“Shit!” Alex barely held back a laugh as she heard the ghost hunters’ fright. She stepped back to Dean, who, in the dim light, managed to look disapproving. She shrugged.

The ghost hunter's shaky voice was heard once again. “C-Can you do that again?”

In response, Alex opened her mouth and screamed. She heard similar screams in the other room. She cut off when Dean whacked in her the ribs with the barrel of his gun, and she ended with a grunt of pain. “Shut up,” Dean snapped. He stalked out of the room, leaving Alex gripping her side.

“W-Who are you?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Alex joined Dean out in the hall to see the hunter standing there, arms crossed.

“What the hell are you doing here?” The man countered. Alex studied him briefly. Thick black hair, wide blue eyes, paler than, well, paler than a ghost. But definitely attractive.

“Listen. This isn’t some joke, you understand?” Dean stepped forward menacingly. “So get out!”

“W-We have permission to be here,” the young woman said timidly. She looked over at the man, shifting her hold on the camera. “Mrs. Baumann said we would be the only ones here.”

“Well, I say you should leave.”

A low static filled the air. The man pulled his walkie-talkie off of his belt. “What do you want, Jordan?”

“N-Nathan, the-there’s something w-weird g-going on.” Alex strained to hear the words, garbled by the frequency. “C-Can you come up-upstairs?”

“On my way.” Nathan pointed at Dean and Alex. “You two, out. Or else I’m calling the cops.” He and the woman walked back upstairs.

Dean looked down at Alex, shrugged, and followed them. Alex took off after Dean. “Come on,” she whispered. “It was a little bit funny.”

“It was immature.”

“And funny.”

Dean didn’t respond, and Alex dropped her gaze to the ground. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she muttered sullenly.

 

 **T** hey found themselves standing in the kitchen. Monitors were set up on the old oak table, and a man sat behind them. Upon seeing Dean and Alex, he jumped up. “Who are they?”

“We found them in the basement.” Nathan glared at Dean before picking up a phone off of the table. He dialed a number, waiting. “Uh, yes. Can we have a cop car down on—”

Dean stepped forward, taking the phone out of the shorter man’s hands before ending the call. “You don’t want to do that,” he warned.

“Dean.” Alex tugged at the hunter’s sleeve. “We don’t even know if this is a real case.” Dean ignored her, and Alex turned away, feeling slightly left out.

“Who are you?”

Alex wandered over to the table. “Gaf?”

“No, it’s G.A.P.H. Ghost and Paranormal Hunters.”

“So it’s pronounced gaf.”

Dean frowned. “This isn’t like a Ghostfacers thing, is it?”

“The Ghostfacers?” The man looked over at Dean. “You’ve heard of them?”

“Allan—”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’ve met them.”

“They’re only like, our idols!” Allan hurried to stand in front of Dean. Probably only 5’9, barely twenty years old, slightly pudgy. His brown eyes were lit up with excitement. “They’re the reason we started our own ghost hunting blog!”

Dean took a step away from the enthusiasm. “Great. That’s real great.” He looked around. “But you need to get out of here.”

“Dude.” Alex grinned. “This is like Ghostfacers all over again. That was a sweet episode.”

“It’s going to be nothing like that, because they’re leaving.” Dean circled over to the table and closed the laptop. The monitors immediately died.

“Hey hey hey!” Nathan hurried after him, opening the laptop back up, and the monitors flickered back to their color. “Watch it!”

Dean’s attention was focused on the monitor. “How many of you are there?”

“Five, why?”

 “That one of yours?”

Alex followed Dean’s finger towards the screen. Everything was tinted green from the night setting on the camera, but it was obvious what they were looking at. “Oh my God.” Nathan clutched the edge of the table. “Oh my God. Jordan.”

Dean looked over at Alex. “Yeah, I think this is a case.” He turned back to Nathan. “Where is he.”

“Uh, uh, third floor. T-The kid’s first room.”

Dean stalked out of the kitchen. Alex hurried after him. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came to mind. She fell back into silence.

 

 **T** hey reached the third floor. “This way.” Nathan pushed his way past Alex, but Dean stopped him with an arm. “What?”

“You’re going to go back downstairs, and you’re going to leave. Don’t look back.”

“I’m not leaving with Jordan.”

“Whoa.” Alex took a small camera out of Nathan’s hands. “This is infrared? Awesome!” She pointed it at Dean, studying the screen. He appeared in vibrant colors against the blue and purple walls. “Dude, you’re gay colored. I think it might be destiny, you know—”

Dean snatched the camera out of her hands. “Stop it.” In his moment of distraction, Nathan shoved Dean out of the way.

Dean let out a harsh breath through his nose, but followed Nathan. “This is stupid,” he growled. “Why doesn’t anyone listen to me?”

“I listen to you,” Alex pointed out.

Dean paused, looking down at her. “No you don’t,” he finally said.

Alex smiled. “No, I don’t.”

Dean let out a small smile, but it was quickly gone. He hurried back down the hall. Alex followed.

They stopped inside a large room. Nathan flipped on the lights, and he took a step back. Alex grimaced. A man lay in the center of the room, just like they had seen on the monitor. But what they hadn’t seen was the large pool of blood beneath him, or the multiple slash marks on his body, or the marks around his neck.

“Great,” Alex grunted. “That must have hurt.”

“Y-You’re not even s-scared?” Nathan gaped at Alex.

“This isn’t my first rodeo.” Alex winked at him before turning back to Dean. “Now what? You think it’ll let us leave?”

“Let us leave?” Nathan repeated. I—”

“Can you go downstairs?” Dean turned on him. “Just, give us a minute, okay?”

Nathan nodded and scurried away. Dean let out a breath and lowered his head.

“We should try get them out,” Alex said quietly.

“Yeah. Of course.” Dean nodded. He shook his head to clear it. “Okay. Who would this be?” 

“Could be John. Jonny,” Alex added when Dean looked confused. “He’s mentally unstable.”

“He’s also an eight year old boy.”

“Okay. The mom went mad with grief—”

“You know, time also drives a ghost mad.” Dean looked around. “Just give ‘em a little bit of time to cook, and they’ll get vengeful soon enough.”

“Okay, fine. Except they were only moved to that atheistic cemetery like, three decades ago.”

“Atheistic cemetery,” Dean repeated, then nodded. “Okay. Well, how’d the dad die?”

“Suicide. After his son and wife passed.”

There was a cry from downstairs, cutting them off.

Dean took off past her, leaving her standing alone in the room with a dead body. With a sigh, Alex followed.

She started slowly down the stairs, mind wandering. “Stupid,” she muttered to herself.

“Hello?”

Alex turned. “Uh, can I help you?”

A pale little boy stood at the top of the staircase. Blood trickled down his forehead, and his clothes were stained red. “Did you kill my mommy?”  

“Kill her?” Alex frowned. “No. Of course not.”

“My mommy’s dead.” The boy flickered, and then he was standing three steps above her. “Did you kill her?”

“Did you kill that man?”

The boy looked up, and then he disappeared.

Alex turned and ran down the stairs. “Dean! Dean!”

“What?” Dean came running out. He slid to a stop, and his worried gaze faded. “What?” he repeated. “You sounded like a ghost had gotten you.”

“The boy’s haunting the place,” Alex explained breathlessly. “I, I saw him on the steps. He asked me if, if I killed his mom.”

“And . . ?”

“Then he disappeared when I asked him if I killed that guy.”

Dean frowned. “Did he seem okay? Not mad?”

“He . . . He was covered in cuts. I mean, his clothes were pretty much red with blood. Like, I don't know how that kind of trauma didn't kill him.”

“Okay.” Dean frowned. "So. Someone killed the kid, the kid says that someone killed his mom." Dean motioned her after him. “Come onNathan found something. Stay close.”

Alex nodded, frowning at his odd request. But she did as he asked. “What did you find?”

“We checked the video.” Dean pointed to a monitor. It was frozen on a single frame. A man stood there, beside Jordan.

Alex leaned close. “Well, that’s not the kid or the mom.”

“That’s George,” Nathan confirmed shakily. “T-The —”

“—original owner,” Alex finished. “Yeah, I know. I did my research.” She grinned up at Nathan, shrugging.

Dean nudged her. “Stop flirting.”

“Well, maybe you should pay me more attention,” Alex retorted half-heartedly. She ran a hand through her hair. “So, now what? Now we can leave? We’ll have to dig him up . . . Dean, the ground’s probably close to frozen!”

Dean opened his mouth to snap, but then he closed it again. “Let’s get everyone out,” he finally said. “We’ll take care of this tomorrow.”

Alex looked around. “There’s no one here.”

“Yeah, cause everyone but this one’s already outside.” Dean jerked a thumb towards Nathan.

“We can’t leave without our equipment!”

“I told you! If you stay, you die.” Dean’s eyes flashed. “You can get your crap in the morning.” Nathan opened his mouth to protest, but Dean cut him off. “What’s more important? Your stupid blog, or your life?”

That seemed to convince the man. He nodded meekly, and hurried out of the room. Dean sighed and picked up his duffle bag. “Screw this,” Alex heard him mutter.

There was a loud cry, and Dean and Alex rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room. Nathan was laying on the other side, slumped against the wall. A man stood over him, a large butcher’s knife in one hand.

“Hey!” Dean yelled, getting the ghost’s attention.

Alex raised her shotgun and pulled the trigger. The man disappeared. “Let’s get him out of here.”

Dean agreed, dropping his duffle bag. Alex picked it up as the older hunter helped Nathan to his feet and half carried him out the door.

Three people stood on the front lawn; Alex recognized all but one. The woman hurried over to Nathan, taking him from Dean. “Nathan?” she cupped his face, eyes desperately searching his. “Nathan? Can you hear me?”

“He’s probably got a concussion. Take him to the hospital.” Dean pointed towards the gate.

The people nodded and hurried off, leaving Dean and Alex standing alone.

“Dean?”

Dean shook his head. He exited the yard and crossed the street.

Alex joined him by the Impala, frowning. “Dean? Are you okay, man?”

Dean unlocked the trunk, and they threw their things inside. Then he got into the front seat. “I don’t know.” The Winchester rubbed his head tiredly. “I, I think I just might need some sleep, okay?”

Alex nodded, watching her friend worriedly. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you need, Dean. Do . . . do you want me to drive?”

“I’m fine.”

They fell silent.

 

 **T** hey didn’t speak until they were back at the motel. Dean was sitting at the table, one hand holding his beer, the other on his laptop’s keyboard. Finally he sighed. “Hey. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Alex looked up. “About what?”

“You know about that. I was acting like a dick. I, it’s just been weird, okay? Being without Sam.”

Alex sat up, holding her pillow against her chest. She rested her chin on it. “Sorry I called you gay,” she mumbled.

Dean snorted. “Which time?”

“Just the second time. I stand by the first time.” Alex sighed. “It’s fine. You’ve got a lot to worry about. Sam’s gone, Bobby’s paralyzed, I get how hard this is.”

Dean just shook his head. “You know what? It’s 3:30. We need some sleep.” He stood up, looking around. “I guess we both get out own beds.”

Alex shook her head. “I don’t like being alone,” she admitted.

Dean grunted. He turned off the lights, and after a few seconds, Alex felt the bed dip next to her. She shifted backwards until she felt Dean’s shoulder resting comfortingly against her back. “Goodnight, Dean,” she murmured, eyes drifting close.

“Night, Pip.”


	28. Disposable Heroes

**“P** ossible vamp case in Kansas.” Dean spun his laptop towards Alex. It was the next day, and they were both sitting in a bar, hungry after having dug and burned the bones of George Bellwood. “You up for that?”

“Sure.” Alex took a long sip of her Mountain Dew. “Okay. If that’s what you want to do.” She watched as Dean’s gaze wandered away, coming to focus on a pair of two hot women. She kicked him under the table playfully. “You said there was a case?”

Dean glanced back at her, grinning. “Don’t tell me you don’t think that’s sexy.”

Alex shrugged, eyes focusing on her half-eaten plate. “I spend too much time with you,” she insisted. “It’s like every time I see a girl, I think, ‘Is she hot? Damn she’s hot.’ ” She looked up at Dean. “I’m not gay! Hell, I can barely stand being around girls!”

Dean grinned. “Gay.”

Alex kicked him again. Then she rested her elbows on the table, head in her hands. “I’m as gay as you are.”

In retaliation, Dean stole an onion ring.

 

 **T** hey were on the road by 6 pm. They drove, the only sound coming from the Styx blasting from the car’s stereo. At one point, when the road was dark, Dean reached over and turned off the music. “I was thinking,” he began.

“About what?” Alex glanced at the hunter.

“You know in porn, they usually have music in the beginning?” Dean looked over at her. “How do they choose that music? Is there like band that specializes in porno music?”

Alex turned the music back on.

 

**December 7th, 2009**

**Salina, Kansas**

**T** hey arrived in Kansas early the next morning. Dean crashed, leaving Alex once again to fend for herself for breakfast. She eventually shook him awake around noon, and the hunter reluctantly got up. They went out for lunch, and then returned to the motel.

“I’ll be back in an hour, maybe two.” Dean stood in front of the bathroom mirror, tightening his tie. “Then we’ll hit the morgue tomorrow, alright?”  
 “Can I come for that?” Alex watched the Winchester pull on his suit jacket.

“We’ll see. Call Bobby, see what he says.”

Alex frowned. “Fine.” She turned back to the tv.

 

 **W** hen Dean came back, his face was grim. "Definitely sounds like vamps." He took off his tie, tossing it onto the bed.

"What happened?"

"Sheriff said the vics were exsanguinated. Not a drop of blood in 'em." Dean sat down, reaching for his laptop.

"Okay. Any suspects?"

"Nope."

Alex persisted. "Patients? Doctors? Janitors?"

Dean shook his head. "Probably not a patient."

"Yeah. The doctors would likely notice. Different physiology, and all."

Dean just grunted. Alex gave up.

 

 **T** hat night, Dean went out to a bar. Alex, like always, stayed behind. Around ten o'clock, she decided to take a shower. She got up, grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and went into the bathroom.

She was in there until the water ran cold. Then she got out, reaching for her towel, slowly drying herself. Then she pulled on her clothes and pulled out the bun she kept in her hair to keep it dry. She stepped out of the bathroom. And froze.

Dean was laying on the bed. With another woman. Both were mostly unclothed. Upon seeing her, the woman sat up. Dean quickly followed suit. He and Alex stared at each other for several second; neither spoke. Alex felt herself start to blush, and she quickly walked over to the other bed, grabbing her phone.

One unread text from Dean: _Bringing home hot chick. Get out._

Alex shook her phone at Dean, face slightly apologetic. Then she grabbed the comforter off of her bed, a pillow, and the keys to the car, and then, she left.

She spent the night in the car.

 

 **"W** hat the hell?" Dean snapped. It was the next day, and the Winchester was obviously still pissed. 

Alex looked incredulously up at Dean. "Are you fucking serious? I'm not the one who brought a girl back to a room that was already occupied!"

"I told you I was bringing her!"

"You _texted_ me. I was in the shower! If I don't reply, I didn't get it, capisce?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated. Then he grunted angrily. "Fine. I see your point. But this better not happen again."

"Trust me," Alex huffed. "If I can prevent myself from seeing that again, I will."

Dean smirked playfully. "Couldn't have been that terrible. I mean . . ." He motioned to himself.

"Yeah, well, that plus another girl?"

"Jealous?"

"Try scarred for life."

 

 **T** hat afternoon, she and Dean went down to the coroner's office. "Agents Harvey and Ford." They flashed their badges.

The coroner studied Alex. "Are you serious?"

Dean's voice grew crisp. "Of course we are. Now, we're here about the bodies from the hospital --"

'How old are you?" the woman asked Alex.

Alex pulled her shoulders back, straightening her spine. "I'm old enough," she replied politely yet cooly.

"Seventeen, eighteen?"

Alex's eyes flashed. "Twenty-two."

"She meets every qualification," Dean assured her impatiently.

The coroner didn't look convinced.

"If you don't believe us, call our boss." Alex glanced over at Dean, who nodded in agreement, fishing a card out of his wallet.

The coroner accepted it, pulling out her phone. "Yes, hello, I'm Catherine Anderson. I'm calling about two of your agents, Harley and Ford." She listened for several seconds. "Yes, well, she _does_ look rather young--" She was cut off by Bobby. "Yes. Yes sir." She hung up. Then she turned back to Alex and Dean. "So how long have you two been working together?"

Dean shrugged slightly. "Few months. My old parter got reassigned, and I was handed new blood."

"Hm. Can I see your badges again?"

Alex glanced at Dean, who rolled his eyes, exasperated. However, he pulled out his badge, handing it to the coroner. Alex did the same.

Dr. Anderson studied them. Then she looked at Dean. "What's your badge number?"

"Twenty-one one sixty-two."

"And yours?"

"Eleven o ninety five."

The coroner handed their badges back to them. "Okay. The ones from the hospital, right?"

Dean nodded, and they were lead into the autopsy room. There, she pulled out two gurneys. "Here you go, agents."

"Thank you." Dean uncovered one of the victims. The face was pale and lifeless. "How'd he die?"

"Blood loss. Slit his own throat." The coroner tipped the man's head, revealing a deep cut. "Same with the other one." She dropped the arm, then stepped back.

"Can I have a word with my colleague, please?"

"Sure."

When the coroner didn't move, Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Alone?"

The coroner sighed, but left the room.

"Hm. Tough crowd," Alex said when they were alone.

Dean grunted in agreement. He tipped the victim's neck from side to side. "Definitely vamps."

Alex circled around to see the gaping wound. "Doesn't look particularly like a vamp bite."

"They probably tried to cover it up." Dean pointed to the end of the wound where the cut was wider.

Alex quickly checked the other vic's neck. "Same here." She covered the corpse back up. "Time to do a little digging?"

Dean led the way out. "Thank you for your time," he told the coroner before handing her his card. "If anything else turns up, give me a call."

He shot her a smile, and then coroner obviously blushed. Alex rolled her eyes. "Come on, Romeo."

They left.

 

 **T** hey stopped by the hospital on their way back, and Dean went in to get the records of all new employees. Then they went back to the motel. On the drive there, the radio was playing. Suddenly, _Carry On Wayward Son_ came on. Alex immediately cranked up the volume.

Dean groaned. "Are you serious?"

Alex gaped at him. "Are _you_ serious? Dude, this is your fricken theme song! They played this song all the time in _Supernatural!"_

"Kansas?" Dean looked over at her disbelievingly.

"Not 'Kansas?'. Kansas!" She began singing along with the chorus. " _Don't you cry no more._ "

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Are you serious? You don't like this song? Oh my God."

"It's okay," Dean finally grumbled. "Theme song, huh? Kind of a sad song."

"Kind of a sad life," Alex shot back. "Dude, this song is amazing! I mean, it about hope or something . . . I don't know, man. Just live with it."

"It's not that bad of a song," Dean finally admitted.

"Good."

 

 **A** fter several hours back at the motel, Dean groaned. "Anything?"

Alex looked up, rubbing her eyes. "Nope. Everyone here is clean." She thumped the table in annoyance. "Now what?"

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, uh, I don't know." He let out a breath, head in his hands. "Sam would probably know."

Alex stood up and got two beers. She handed one to Dean, who gratefully accepted. Then she sat back down, opening hers. She took a sip, then pushed it away, making a disgusted face.

After a few more seconds of silence, Dean suggested, "Maybe some older employee got bit."

Alex looked up. "Yeah, it's probable, but there aren't any other vamps in town."

"We don't know that."

"Well, there's been no other similar vamp-y deaths around here."

Dean grunted in agreement. "Maybe a doctor went on vacation and got bit." He rubbed his eyes again. "I'll go down later and get some other names."

"Okie dokie." Alex yawned, moving over to the bed.

"I'll get the list of staff that were on duty too." Dean took a long drink. "Probably should have done that in the first place. Damn. Some hunter I am."

Alex looked up. "It's fine. You're just worried about Bobby and Sam, man. Cut yourself some slack."

Dean shook his head. "You get sloppy, you get killed." He stood up. "I'll get those names."

"All staff," Alex advised. "Not just doctors."

Dean grunted. "Okay." However, instead of leaving, he joined Alex on the bed. "Okay. Let's talk this out."

"Talk what out?" Alex felt herself start to blush, thinking this was going to be personal.

"The case." If Dean noticed, he didn't give it away. "Our suspects. Go."

Alex narrowed her eyes. "Is this a test?"

"Suspects," Dean prompted her. "Come on. You're suppose to be smart." He flashed her a charming smile for good measure.

Alex rolled her eyes, but gave in. "Fine. It could be any doctor, patient, or other staff. These attacks occurred at night, correct?" She continued when Dean nodded. "That means it's probably not a visitor."

"Okay." Dean nodded, following along. "Can't be any staff that weren't on duty both nights. What about patients?"

"Well," Alex scrunched up her face, thinking hard. "Maybe any patients that complain of sensitivity to light and sound? I mean, vamps are super sensitive to that, aren't they?"

Dean blinked. "Not really. Newly turned vamps are, but not otherwise."

"Well, either our vamps are new at this, or they're new to town." Alex shrugged. "Just a guess."

"Well, you're right about that. So, I should look for new patients and staff that was there at both killings."

"Maybe not patients? Both victims were patients. Doctors would have access to both of them easily, while patients would have to sneak around . . ?" Alex trailed off. "Okay. Maybe just start with staff."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Okay." He walked back over to the table, grabbing his phone. "Okay." He walked out, and Alex turned on the tv.

 

 **W** hen Dean returned, it was late. He tossed a paper bag onto the table, filled with dinner. He was also carrying a folder. "New names," he grumbled. "Come and get it."

Alex, who had changed out of her nice clothes, walked to the table, sitting down. She pulled the paper bag towards her, taking out a hamburger and some fries. "Whose is whose?"

"Doesn't matter." Dean sat down across from her, sighing. "Okay. Narrowed down the suspects. Uh, handful of doctors, and some janitorial staff." He slid the file across the table to her. "See anything helpful?"

Alex shook her head, pushing it away. "I'll look at it after we've eaten." She handed him his food. "Now. Eat."

Dean did as she asked. As he did, he started humming.

"Kansas?" Alex smirked. "Admit it. You like that song."

"Fine. The damn song's growing on me. I mean, they really should have picked, like, Led Zep's _Ramble On_ or something."

Alex huffed in amusement. "What took you so long?" she asked. "It's almost ten. You left almost five hours ago!"

Dean shrugged. "Got a drink, got a date, the usual."

"Oh. Well, thanks for not bringing her back here."

Dean almost laughed. "Yeah, not going to let that happen two nights in a row." He paused, looking at Alex. "Actually, something unusual did happen. Cas paid me a visit."

"Oh, really? Pray tell."

Dean let out a full laugh this time. "He asked me how I tell if a girl likes him."

"Ooh. Cassie got a crush?" Alex teased, swirling a fry around in ketchup. "Do angels get crushes?"

"I guess so. I mean, he didn't say why he wanted to know. But he kept asking stuff like how to tell if she's flirting with you, you know, stuff like that. He said I was the one who would know."

"Huh." Alex couldn't help the trickle of jealousy that ran through her, but she pushed it away. "Weird. I should ask him about that."

"Actually, he asked me not to tell anyone," Dean admitted. "So, don't."

"He wanted to keep it a secret, huh? Interesting. If he really wanted to know, he could have asked me."

"I suggested that, but he said I would know better."

Alex laughed. "I guess you have more experience."

Dean smirked. He looked down at his beer. "Oh, and there's this other hunter in town. He's working this case too apparently."

"Oh? Who?"

"Dunno. I've never heard of him. His name was Carton."

"Carton?" Alex grinned. "Yeah, I know him. He, he helped us with that Kappa case, remember?"

Dean looked thoughtful. "I remember that." He shoved three fries in his mouth. "He's a weird one."

Alex hurried over to her phone. She dialed Carton's number, waiting for him to pick up.

"What do you want?"

"Hey, Carton. It's Alex. Bobby's girl? I'm here in Kansas with Dean Winchester."

"Yeah, I know."

"So, you're working the same case as us."

"Yup."

"Wanna conspire? We're staying at the Frontier Motel."

"No thanks. I've got this."

Alex frowned, looking at Dean. "Are you sure?" When Carton insisted, she sighed. "Uh, okay. Fine. We'll call if we find anything."

While she was talking, Dean had finished eating. He took the folder and began pinning different suspects up on the wall. Alex watched, interested. After she finished, she walked over to him. "Whatcha doing?"

"Sorting." Dean pointed to one side. "Non doctors. Doctors."

Alex studied their names. "Hey."

"Hm?"

Alex pointed to one of the janitors. "This guy started two weeks ago."

Dean walked over to her. "Yeah. Around when the attacks happened. But both times, he's been working with . . . this guy. Both have alibis with each other." He pulled another file out of the large pile before pinning it next to the others.

"So maybe both are vampires."

Dean nodded. "Possible. Good work." He slapped her on the back, and Alex let out a breath as he hit her adjust a little bit to hard. However, she said nothing. Dean stepped away. "Let's see if we can find anything else."

 

 **T** hey didn't. Alex retired to bed, crawling under the covers. Dean was still at the table, beer in one hand.

When she awoke, Dean was laying on the opposite bed, still wearing jeans and a jacket. It was only five in the morning, and Alex couldn't fall back to sleep. She crawled into the other bed next to Dean, closing her eyes again. She fell back asleep.

When she woke up again, she felt displaced. Something was pressed into her back and wrapped around her waist. As she woke up more, she realized it was Dean. Dean had his arm around her waist, keeping her close. Alex huffed. Dean often cuddled in his sleep. She quickly wiggled her way out. Dean didn't fully wake, rolling onto his back. When she had gotten dressed, she yelled, "Dean-o. Rise and shine, you lazy ass."

Dean grumbled something under his breath, not opening his eyes. He crossed his arms childishly. Alex jumped onto the bed next to him, making him bounce slightly. He cracked open one eye, looking over at her, a scowl on his face. Alex retaliated by planting her feet on his side, pushing him off the bed. Dean let out a cry as he fell. He stood up, quite pissed. Alex smiled up at him innocently, and he rolled his eyes. "What?"

"Breakfast?" Alex half asked, half begged.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Let me get dressed."

Alex watched him grab his bag and disappeared into the bathroom. After half a minute, he stepped out. Alex averted her eyes. "Dean. Pants."

"Huh? Hang on, they're out here." Dean walked across the room and pulled on his jeans. "There." He looked down at Alex. "So, you still hungry?"

"Not after seeing that," Alex grumbled, but got up, searching for a jacket. Dean tossed her one of his, and she smiled thanks.

 

 **T** hey ate at the diner a few miles south of their motel. They ate in silence until Dean spoke. "Remember when Zachariah took our memories and put us in that normal world-thing?"

"Uh, yeah." Alex looked up at Dean, unsure where this was going. They hadn't spoken of that since it had happened.

"You ever miss it?"

"Miss it?"

"Yeah. You know, normal life. I, uh, I've never had one, so I was wondering what you thought."

Alex studied Dean for several seconds. "I, uh -- yeah. Sometimes, I do. It was nice not hunting."

Dean grunted in agreement, letting out a sigh. "It, uh, it kind of changed my perspective on things. I never really knew what life was outside of a hunter's life." He studied his food and snorted. "I can't believe he made _you_ my daughter and Sam some stranger."

"I could totally be your daughter," Alex teased. "I mean, come on, _Dad_. You do act like a dad sometimes."

Dean shrugged, blushing only slightly. "Someone needs to stop you from being a total ass."

Alex huffed. "Thanks, Dean." She sighed. "Seriously. Thanks. Well, I can't say your the worst dad I've ever had."

Dean didn't look like he knew how to answer. "Well, uh, thanks, I guess. How many dads did you have?"

Alex lifted her hand, counting on her fingers. "Well, my real dad, adopted dad one, adopted dad two, Bobby, I guess, you. Five."

"Hm. Your real dad died, right?"

Alex shook her head, studying the table. "My mom died. My dad left a few years later. One day, he just didn't come home."

"Hm. Sucks."

Anger boiled up. "I was twelve!" she snapped. "And he blamed me. I didn't do anything!" She lowered her gaze. "I don't know. Maybe it was me."

"It's not." Dean promised awkwardly. "You can't control those things."

"Sure." Alex looked up the window, blinking back tears.

Dean sighed. "Well. You never really talked about your last family. You didn't seem to think they'd miss you."

"They won't care. They're probably glad I'm gone." Alex sighed. "I, uh, they were going to turn me out as soon as I was eighteen. In some ways, being here is an answer to prayers. I have you guys, which, believe it or not, is better than having no one. If I was still there, I'd have to find a job and some way to support myself. No chance of me getting into college, or really going anywhere. No one to fall back on or to go home to." She laughed dryly. "I'd probably just die. At least here, I'm helping people, you know? Even if they don't know it. There's pain and fear here, but at least it means something."

Dean took a sip of his coffee. "That's what keeps us going."

"Yeah, I guess so." Alex pushed her food away, no longer hungry.

“Do you miss anything about your other life?”

“I . . .” Alex hesitated. “When my mom died, I was sitting on her bed. Reading Fox is Socks. By Dr. Seuss, you know? I kept that book. Now . . .” The girl closed her eyes, looking away.

The a bell rang as the door was opened, and Alex glanced up. A man stepped in, dressed in stained jeans and a wrinkled button down. He looked around, running a hand through his tousled black hair. Not exactly handsome, but he wasn’t unattractive.

Alex waved her hand. "Carton!"

The man turned, and his eyes flashed in recognition. He approached. Alex slid over, and Carton sat down. "Alex, right?"

"Yeah." Alex slid her plate towards him. "Hungry?"

Dean nodded at Carton, who grunted a greeting back. He took the rest of her hamburger. "Did you find out anything?" He took a bite.

Alex nodded, glancing at Dean. "Yeah. We were thinking the two janitors. Both could be vamps."

Carton chewed thoughtfully. "I was thinking the same thing," he agreed. He smiled over at Alex.

"I was going to go down to the hospital tomorrow," Dean added. His lips were twisted downwards into a frown, but it was so faint Alex barely saw it. She gently kicked him under the table. With a glance at the girl, he added, "You want to come?"

Carton studied a french fry before answering, avoiding Dean's gaze. "Sure," he shrugged.

Alex took one of Dean's onion rings. "How have you been?" she asked, changing the subject. "You sounded pretty bad when I talked to you last summer."

The hunter shrugged again. "I'm fine. Just got mauled by a shifter. Nothing big."

Alex huffed. "Right. That's nothing. Well, I'm glad you're better."

"Mm-hmm." Carton glanced at his phone, then at Dean, then suddenly stood up. "I should go." He hurried away.

Dean watched him go. "Dude's weird."

Alex kicked him under the table. "He's a little strange, but he's a nice guy. Once you get to know him, he's really sweet."

Dean just huffed. "I don't trust him."

 

 **T** hey went back to the motel where they got the call of a third exsanguinated victim. Dean quickly donned on his suit and tie before leaving. Alex quickly grew bored. "Castiel?" she finally asked. "Are you okay? I haven't heard from you in almost a week."

"What do you want?"

Alex turned, letting out a long breath. "I'm sorry."

Castiel stepped forward. "Am I going to die because of this?"

That took Alex aback. "What?"

Castiel sat down next to her. "When I was in your head, I saw some things," he began slowly. "I tried not to look but . . . I died. I saw it. I . . . exploded. But I wasn't at Chuck's." He blinked. "It happens again, doesn't it? I don't know how, I don't know when, but I saw it." His eyes became unusually desperate. "I don't want to die."

Alex heart broke. She had never seen him like this. She pulled him into a hug. "Listen to me," she whispered. "If you were going to die, do you think I would be sitting here doing nothing?"

"I rebelled." Castiel extracted himself from her hug. "I'm hunted, and I'm weakened--"

"Yes, you die." Alex broke the news harshly. "But you _don't stay dead_. Castiel, you've already died once. God brought you back. He will do it again. And I would know. You've got many, many years left to live."

This seemed to appease the angel. His face returned to the expressionless look it always seemed to carry. "Are you certain?"

"Of course."

Castiel stood up before disappearing.

"Good talk!" Alex yelled after him, slightly annoyed.

A flutter of wings caught her attention, and she turned. "Now what?" She froze when she saw who it was, and a growl escaped her lips.

"We had a deal."

"And you took away my lungs," she growled back, knowing exactly what he meant.

Zachariah strolled forward. "You specifically promised that you would _not_ deter Dean from being Michael's vessel. You're fortunate that I allowed that negotiation in."

"How'd you find me?" Alex hissed. "We're below angel radar, last time I checked."

"You are. But Castiel is not."

"Are you hunting him down?"

"He rebelled. That is our job."

"Leave him alone."

"Or what?" Zachariah stepped forward menacingly.

"Or Dean will never say yes."

"I think once again you're forgetting who has the upper hand here. I make the deals, not you."

"You kill Cas, and Dean will kill you. Me doing anything has nothing to do with it. You should know that."

The seraphim studied her with his cold gaze. Then he disappeared.

Alex snorted angrily. "What's wrong with you angels!" she yelled. "Allergic to ending a conversation?" She fell back onto her bed in frustration.

 

 **H** alf an hour later, the door opened and Dean walked through. "Narrowed down our suspect list." He dropped a folder next to her. "Here's the list of everyone present at the time of this death. Did some cross checking, and there were five. Five staff present at each and every murder."

"What about --"

"Those janitors? Yahtzee. So I did a bit of digging on the two of them." Another folder fell by her hip, and Alex sat up. "Franklin Shards and Jake Cooper. Cooper started two weeks ago, came from up near Muncie, Indiana. Turns out there's been a string of strange murders up there too."

"So it's definitely them."

"That's where I'm putting my money." Dean sat down next to her. "How was your morning?"

"Good." Alex, slightly cold, shifted closer to Dean. "Some a-- yeah, it was fine. I watched tv."

Dean smiled over at her, and Alex's heart skipped a beat. She blushed for even thinking that way. "Good." Dean patted her on the thigh before standing up. "Shards and Cooper finish a shift tonight at eleven. We'll be waiting for them then."

"Okay." Alex crawled under the covers, feeling very cold. "Sounds good."

"You okay?"

"Just cold."

Dean walked over to the heater. "It's on full blast. You're probably just a wimp."

Alex huffed. "Probably."

 

 **T** hat night, Dean pulled the car up to the back of the hospital. They got out, and Dean handed her a machete. She leaned against the Impala, waiting. "Is Carton coming?" she asked quietly.

"Don't know. I think he left town."

"Oh." Alex didn't ask why.

 

 **A** t exactly eleven o'clock, the back door to the hospital opened. Two men stepped out, eyes glittering warily. They looked up to see a black car parked in front of them.

Alex looked over at Dean, who smiled at the vampires, waving his fingers in false amiability. Her grip tightened on the handle on her machete. One of the men snarled, fangs unsheathing from their gums. Dean stepped forward and the vampires attacked. One jumped past Dean and launched itself at Alex. She immediately backpedalled to create more room. She ducked as something was thrown over her head, then fell as something caught the side of her head.

Alex staggered back to her feet, spinning the machete in her hand. She warily watched the vampire, who was circling around, waiting to kill. Against the Impala, Dean was struggling with the second. That momentary distraction was all the vampire needed. It launched itself at Alex, and she quickly backpedaled, swinging the machete at it's head. She missed, and tripped, falling to the ground. The machete fell from her hands, clattering to the ground by her feet.

The vampire loomed over her, lips pulled back in a snarl to display its teeth. Alex scrambled backwards and the creature lunged at her. Then it fell to the ground, headless. Alex sat up, eyes wide.

Carton stood there, machete in hand. “Am I late?” he asked quietly.

Alex grinned. “You’re here.”

“Couldn’t leave you alone. And I couldn’t let you die.” Carton held out his hand. “You’re my friend —” The hunter keeled forward as a blade slid through his neck. Alex’s blood ran cold as the hunter’s head landed next to her. Carton’s body stayed upright for a second before falling.

A woman stood behind him, Alex’s machete in one hand, teeth bared in victory.

For several seconds Alex just stared blankly at her friend’s body. It was only Dean’s yell that brought her back to reality. The vampire rushed at her, eyes flashing fire.

With a rush of adrenaline, Alex kicked out, catching the vampire's leg, sending it to the ground next to her. She grabbed the machete from Carton’s hand and rolled over, quickly pinning the vampire down, straddling her so her arms were pinned beside her chest. Alex swung the machete downwards, and it buried itself in the vamp's neck. It let out a scream, thrashing around. Alex pulled the blade out again, striking out again. Blood spurted out from the neck, covering Alex. She swung the blade down again, second blow severed the head, and the vampire's movements faded, and the light died from it's eyes. Alex didn't move, trying to catch her breath. She stared down at the vampire, grief pressing down on her chest.

 She heard a gurgle from behind her, and knew Dean had killed the second. Then a hand was on her shoulder, and Alex forced her gaze up upon Dean. He had blood spatters over his face and shirt, and Alex knew she looked the same; probably worse. Dean was breathing heavily, and he looked over at her.

She rolled off of the vampire, kneeling beside Carton. His body was already growing cold.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked quietly.

“Twenty three.”

“What?”

Alex looked up, tears in her eyes. “He was only twenty three years old!” she snapped. “He still —” Her voice cut off with a sob. “He was my friend.”

Dean knelt down beside her. “Come on,” he said quietly. “You need to focus. Help me clean this up.” When Alex didn’t move, he added, “Alex. We’ll take care of him later. But we have to go now.”

****

******D****** ean had taken care of the vampire’s bodies within twenty minutes. Alex had eventually gotten up to help him, but she was anything but focused. Half an hour later, they were on the road. Alex was curled up in the front seat, watching the road.

“You okay?” Dean looked over at her.

“No.”


	29. Free to be You and Me

**A** lex stood in a small clearing, watching the tongues of fire lick at the cold night air. She could feel Dean behind her. He was shifting his weight around, impatient to get back on the road. Her legs and back were sore, but at the same time, everything was numb. The pyre burned bright, Carton's sheet-wrapped body still visible on the heavy branches. Alex's heart wrenched at the sight. He had become her friend almost two years ago, and, apart from her, was the youngest hunter Bobby knew. Alex blinked. She would have to tell Bobby --

A hand on her shoulder jolted her out if her thoughts. "It's time to go."

Alex's voice shook. "I don't want to leave him."

Dean rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "I know."

 

 **W** hen they got back the the motel, the first thing Alex did was take a shower. She scrubbed the blood out of her skin and hair, watching the red-dyed water wash down the drain, mixing with her tears. Only when the water grew cold did she dry herself off and pull on Sam's sweatpants and one of Dean's shirt. She dried her hair, waiting for her face to look like she hadn't been crying. Finally, she returned to the room. She sat down on the bed abs brushed her still-damp hair out of her face, giving it a sniff. The smell of blood was gone. That was good. She looked over at Dean, who was attempting to scrub the blood out of his jacket. She turned her attention to the tv.

"God!" Dean exclaimed. He thumped the sink, and Alex looked up. "Don't do that."

"Hello Dean." Castiel stood behind the hunter. Alex sat up, head tipped at the sight of the angel.

Dean turned around to face the angel, who did not back up to give him room. The two of them stood there for a few seconds, only a few inches between their faces. "Cas, we've talked about this," Dean said quietly. When Castiel didn't respond, he elaborated. "Personal space?"

"My apologizes." Castiel took a step back.

Dean picked up his jacket and walked over to the other bed. "How'd you find me? I thought we were flying below the angel radar."

"You are. Bobby told me where you were."

"Hey Cas." Alex gave the angel a small smile.

"Hello, Alex." Castiel looked over at her, blue eyes meeting hers. He looked around the room. "Where's Sam?"

Alex didn't respond, but looked over at Dean. Castiel followed her gaze. Dean cleared his throat. "Me and Sam are taking separate vacations for a while. So, you find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back now, please?"

"No, I haven't found him. That's why I'm here. I need your help."

"With what?" Dean asked. "God hunt? Not interested."

"It's not God. It's someone else."

"Who?"

"Archangel."

"Raphael?" Alex guessed.

"Yes. I've heard whispers that he's walking on Earth. This is a rare opportunity."

"For what?"

"Information."

Dean looked thoughtful, and walked back over to the sink, picking up his knife and a washcloth. He began to wipe it clean. "So what, you think you can find this dude and he's just going to spill God's address?"

"Yes, because we are going to trap him and interrogate him," Castiel said decisively.

"Could be fun," Alex said quietly.

Dean turned around. "And dangerous," he reminded her. He looked over at Cas." You're serious about this." Castiel turned to face Dean, who walked back over to them. "So what, I'm Thelma and you're Louise and we're just going to hold hands and sail over this cliff together?"

Castiel looked at Dean, confusion written across his face. In his defense, not even Alex understood that reference. Dean walked past Cas, putting his knife on the nightstand. "Give me one good reason why I should do this."

"Because you're Michael's vessel and no angel will dare harm you," Castiel answered simply.

"Oh, so I'm your bullet shield?" Dean faced the angel.

"I need your help because you are the only one who can help me. Please."

Dean was silent, thinking it over. "Alright, fine. Where is he?"

"Maine. Let's go." Castiel reached out to touch Dean's forehead.

Dean stopped him. "Woah."

"What?" The angel lowered his hand.

"Last time you zapped me someplace, I didn't poop for a week." Dean said. "We're driving." He started packing his things.

"Wait?" Alex asked. "Right now?"

"Yeah right now."

"But we just got here." She looked up at Dean, eyes dull. "I'm tired, Dean."

Dean hesitated. "You can sleep in the car," he finally said.

Alex sighed, but obediently packed her things into her bag. "Fine." She walked out the door and to the Impala. "Cas, you can have shotgun. Front seat," she quickly clarified. She got into the backseat, tossing her bag on the floor.

Dean threw his stuff in the trunk, and started the car. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Alex yawned, pulling on a jacket; it was December, and it was cold. She curled up tightly in the backseat, tuning out Dean's music.

 

 **T** hey drove the whole night, and Alex slept in the back. At one point, she woke up with nightmares. After that, she sat silently, looking out the window.

 

**December 11th, 2009**

**Waterville, Maine**

**S** ix hours after they left, Dean pulled the car up to an old, abandoned house. "Here we are." He turned off the car, getting out. Alex followed, grabbing her bag. She walked up to the front porch, pulling open the wooden door. The inside was bare, the paint peeling off the walls. The morning sunlight drifted through the dusty windows.

"What are we doing here?" Alex asked. "Shouldn't we be down at the police station?"

"Yeah. Just got to change first." Dean disappeared towards what looked like a bathroom.

Alex wandered around the house while she waited. She looked out the window, seeing Castiel still sitting in the car. "Cas, you can come in," she said aloud. Castiel vanished from the car. Alex looked behind her to see the angel standing there. "Hey."

"Where's Dean?"

"Changing. You coming down to the police station with us?"

"Yes."

"Okay, here." Alex reached out, straightening his tie.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but Dean entered the room, dressed in his black suit and blue tie. "Ready?"

"Yeah. Let's go." Alex nodded.

"You're going?" Dean looked surprised.

"Uh, yeah." Alex nodded. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. I just thought, since, you know."

"I don't want to stay here alone." Alex studied her shoes, slightly embarrassed at herself. She opened her mouth to explain herself further.

However, Dean just nodded. "Uh, okay. You can come."

"Besides, Bobby's back at home if the sheriff-guy doesn't believe us," Alex added, trying to justify herself. She shook her head. "Come on. We're wasting time." She led them out of the house.

 

 **I** t was almost a ten minute drive down to the Waterville Police Station. Dean parked the car, and all three got out. "And why are we here again?" Dean asked the angel.

"A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the archangel."

"And he still has eyes?" Dean asked, surprised. "Okay, what's the plan?"

Castiel thought hard. "We'll . . . tell the officer he witnessed an angel of the Lord, and the officer will tell us where the angel is."

Alex let out a laugh, while Dean looked skeptical. "Seriously? You're going to walk in there and tell him the truth?"

Castiel looked perplexed. "Why not?"

"Cas, they're not going to believe you," Alex explained.

"Why not? It's the truth."

"Yeah, well, a lot of people don't think angels are real."

"But, we are."

"Yeah, and I know that. But those people are stupid, so we have--"

"It's because we're humans," Dean cut in. He pulled out an fake FBI ID for Cas, handing it to him. "And when humans want something really, really bad, we lie."

"Why?"

"Because that's how you become President." Dean left it at that. He handed Alex her ID, and she put it in her pocket. Dean reached forward, buttoning the top button of Cas' shirt before tightening his tie.

Alex noticed. "What?" she exclaimed. "I just tightened that!"

Dean led the way across the street and into the police station. They walked down the hall. "Deputy Framingham?"A large, black man turned to face them. Dean pulled out his ID. "Hi. Alonzo Mosley, FBI. This is my partner, Eddie Moscone." He waited for Castiel to show his ID. He didn't. "Also FBI." Dean added, looking at Cas. Alex gave him a nudge. Castiel took the hint, and reached for his ID. He pulled it out, showing the deputy. Alex noticed it was upside down. So did Dean. He reached over, turning it right side up. "He's new," he explained. Castiel studied his ID curiously.

"And who are you?" The deputy turned to Alex.

"Agent Anna Dryden. FBI." Alex showed her ID as well.

"You look a little young to be FBI," the deputy told her.

"Thank you," Alex said coldly.

The deputy studied her, but then moved on with a small shrug. He turned back to Dean. "What do you want?"

"Mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"Yeah, sure. Talk here, though." He motioned to his right ear as he turned around, leading them into his office.

"That happen recently?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, gas station. It's why your here, isn't it."

"Yes," Alex answered. Deputy Framingham sat down at his desk, motioning for them to sit. There was only two chairs, so Alex opted to stand behind the Castiel and Dean, who sat down in the chairs.

"You mind just, uh, running us through what happened?" Dean asked.

"A call came in. Disturbance out at the Pump and Go on Route 4," Framingham explained.

"What kind of disturbance?"

"Would not have believed my eyes if I had not seen it myself. We're talking a riot. Full scale."

"How many?" Alex shifted her weight onto her other leg.

"Thirty, forty in all out kill-or-be-killed combat."

"Any idea of what set them off?" Dean asked.

"It's angels and demons, probably," Castiel answered. The deputy looked over at Castiel, who looked back. "They're skirmishing all over the globe," he added.

"Come again?" Framingham looked at Dean. "What did he say?"

"Nothing."

"Demons," Dean and Castiel spoke at the same time. They exchanged a looks.

"Nothing."

"Demons," they said again.

Dean quickly explained, "Demons, you know, drink, adultery. We all have our demons, Walt."

The deputy looked between the three of them. "I guess."

Alex looked over at Castiel. "Anyways."

Dean returned his gaze to the deputy. "What happened next?"

"Freaking explosion, that's what. They said it was one of those underground gas tanks, but, oh, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Wasn't one of your usual fireballs. It was, um--"

"Pure white," Castiel finished.

"Yeah. Gas station was leveled. Everyone was--it was just horrible. And I see this one guy, kneeling, real focused-lie, not a damn scratch on him."

"You know him?" Dean asked, leaning in.

"Donnie Finneman. Mechanic there."

"Let me guess, he just, uh, vanished into thin air?"

"Uh, no, Kolchak. He's down at St. Pete's."

Castiel looked over at Dean. "St. Pete's," he repeated.

"Thank you,"

Alex put a hand on Cas' shoulder. "Thank you for your time," she told the deputy. Dean and Castiel stood up, and they left.

They walked back out to the car. "Well, that went...well," Dean spoke up.

"Angels and demons?" Alex scoffed. "Classy, Cas."

"It was the truth," Castiel replied.

"Yeah, like I said. Most humans can't handle the truth." Alex got into the car. "Let's go."

 

 **T** hey drove across town to St. Pete's. Dean went up to the desk, asking for Donnie Finneman's room. He returned to where Cas and Alex stood. "Room 217." He led them up. There, in that room, sat a man in a wheelchair. He was looking away from them, rocking back and forth. "I take it that's not Raphael anymore," Dean spoke.

"No. Just an empty vessel," Castiel replied.

"So is this what I'm looking at if Michael jumps in my bones?"

"No, not at all. Michael is much more powerful. It'll be far worse for you."

"Cas." Alex slapped him on the shoulder. Dean looked away. "Maybe we should come back tomorrow," Alex suggested. "Anyone else hungry?"

Dean looked over at her, relief in his green eyes. "Yeah, yeah." He spoke louder. "Good idea."

They walked back out of the hospital. Dean drove them off to a diner for food. It was 3 o'clock, and Alex was starving. They sat down in the booth, and Castiel slid in next to Alex. Both she and Dean ordered a burger. Cas didn't get anything. However, when their food came, Alex insisted Castiel eat some of her fries. It took a little persuasion, but he did.

 

 **T** hey got back to the abandoned house around 4 pm. Even though the sun was still high in the sky, the house was dark. Alex sat down at the kitchen table, pulling out her laptop. She looked up 'Raphael', trying to see if anything sparked her memory of this angel. She knew he and Cas fought when Michael fell into the cage, but couldn't think of anything before that. She frowned.

 

 **A** few hours later, Dean walked past, eyes trained on the open journal in his hands. Alex recognized it to be his father's. He walked into the front room, setting it down on the small table that also held their lantern. Castiel appeared out of nowhere, and Dean turned around. "Where've you been?" he asked.

Alex stood up, walking over to them. The angel held a grey ceramic jar in one hand. "Jerusalem," he responded.

"Oh, how was it?"

"Arid." Castiel walked over, setting the jar down on the table.

"What's in the jar?" Alex asked.

"It's oil. It's very special. Very rare."

"Oh, so we trap Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?"

"Not funny, Dean," Alex snapped, not in a good mood. "Holy oil, right?"

"Yes." Castiel sat down.

"So, this ritual of yours. When does it go down?" Dean asked.

"Sunrise."

"Tell me something. You keep saying we're going to trap this guy. Isn't that like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?"

"No. It's harder," Castiel responded seriously.

"Do we have any chances of surviving tomorrow?"

"You do." Castiel looked at Dean, but refused to make eye contact with Alex. She frowned.

"So odds are you're a dead man tomorrow."

"Yes."

"Well, last night on Earth. What are your plans?"

"I just thought I'd sit here quietly," Castiel said. Alex barely contained a chuckle at his, well, unusualness. Dean looked over at Alex, then back down at Cas.

"Come on, anything. Booze, woman?" Dean watched Cas look away, uncomfortable. "You have been with a woman before, right? Or an angel, at least?"

Castiel awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"You mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?" Even Alex looked down at her shoes, feeling uncomfortable.

"I've never had the occasion, okay?" Castiel responded, casting a glance at Alex. She didn't catch it.

"All right." Dean walked over to the other chair, grabbing his jacket. "Let me tell you something. There are two things I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, you are not going to die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let's go." Dean started walking towards the door. "Come on, Alex."

"What?" Alex shook her head. "Why am I going?"

"I ain't letting you die a virgin either," Dean said.

"No thanks. I actually had plans."

"Yeah?" Dean turned to look at her.

"Yeah. I figured I'd just sit here quietly," Alex joked dryly.

"That was my plan," Castiel told her.

"I know."

"No. No one is sitting here quietly. Come on. Last night on earth. Let's go."

"Sorry, Dean. If this is my last night on earth, I'm going to spend it with a little something I call self-respect." Alex leaned against the doorframe. "You two go out, have fun. I'll stay here."

Dean looked like he was going to argue, but after studying her face, he nodded. "If you're not feeling it, I understand." He shrugged, and opened the door. "Still. Your loss."

Alex approached Castiel, who was looking very confused. "Maybe I should stay here. You'd be much safer."

Alex forced a laugh. "No, no, I'll be fine. You'll be fine." She gave him a quick hug. "Have fun. See you around." She stepped back, watching them leave. She rolled her eyes, letting out a small smile. If this is what she thought it was, they were going to have an, interesting, night.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her contacts. She considered calling Sam, but then decided against it. She reached Bobby's number, then hesitated. She pressed enter, and waited as it rang.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hey, Bobby."

"Alex. What's up?"

"Uh, nothing, nothing. Although Dean and Cas seem to have gotten it into their heads that it's their last night on earth."

"Last night on--why would they think that?"

"We're going to trap Raphael -- the archangel."

"Trap him? How the hell are you going to that?"

"Holy fire," Alex answered simply. "You put an angel in a ring of holy oil, light it up, they can't get out or they die."

"Is it going to work? Dean and Cas aren't going to die, right?"

"Of course not. Do you know nothing about me? If we were going to die, chances are, I would have gotten the hell out of Dodge ages ago. No, we'll be fine."

"Then where are they?"

Alex let out a soft laugh. "Well, Dean found out that Cas is, uh, still a virgin. So they're off at some brothel a few miles out."

There was silence at the other end. "Well, okay."

"Yeah. No promises that'll go well. Cas is, well, he's special. I'm not sure how normal people are going to take his, specialness."

"I know what you mean, girl. Tell me how it goes."

"Will do," Alex laughed. "And how about you? How you doing?"

"Well, apart from the fact I'm in some goddamn chair?"

"Okay, okay. I get it. Don't worry. You'll be fine."

"You willing to swear on it?" When Alex was silent, Bobby sighed. "Well, thanks anyways."

"Yeah. Hey, have you heard from Sam?"

"Yeah, he just called me a few hours ago."

"How is he? I want to call him, but I don't think he'd appreciate it."

"He's doing fine. He's in Oklahoma somewhere. Found some apocalyptic signs."

"So he's hunting?"

"No. I had to send some other hunters up his way. Told them he was off limits."

"Ah."

"Yeah. Tim was in the area. So was Reggie and Steve."

"Tim and Steve? Haven't seen them in a while."

"Yeah." Bobby paused. "I heard Carton was down in Salina a few days ago. You see him?"

Alex closed her eyes, trying to hold back the sudden wave of tears as they broached the subject she had been so carefully avoiding.

"Alex?" Bobby's voice grew concerned. "You still there?"

"Y-Yeah. Still here." Alex's voice broke. "It was my fault. I'm so sorry--"

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. B-But." Alex brushed tears out of her eyes. "I'm sorry."

The old hunter was silent for several seconds. "Damn," he murmured. "That stupid son of a bitch. Always knew he'd get himself killed sooner or later."

Alex shook her head. "He saved me."

Alex could hear a phone ringing in the background, and Bobby cursed under his breath. "Sorry, princess. Got to take this."

"Don't call me princess," Alex teased through the tears. She heard Bobby let out a huff of laughter, and then Alex hung up. She looked at the clock on her phone. 6:30. She walked back over to her laptop, logging on to Netflix. Back in Sioux Falls, she had gotten the password and account info from one of her friends; they hardly used it, but Alex used it a lot. She started with Doctor Who, clearing her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket.

 

 **A** round 10 o'clock, Alex changed into her bedtime clothes; sweatpants and a sweatshirt. It was December, and it was an abandoned house; there was no heat to be found. Alex spied the fireplace, a plan forming in her mind. Slipping on her shoes, she went out into the backyard. It was dark, but the large moon cast enough light to find her way around. She jumped the fence into the neighbor's yard, looking for firewood. A few houses over, she found a stack against the house. She grabbed several large logs, smuggling them back over into the house. She started a nice fire, curling up on the floor next to it.

Half an hour later, the door opened, and Cas and Dean entered. Alex stood up. "How was it?"

Dean smiled, "It was, uh, interesting."

"Oh?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "What did he do?" She looked over at Cas, who was studying the ground.

Dean chuckled. "What did you say to that girl again? Something along the lines of, 'it isn't your fault your father left? It was because of his job at the post office'?"

Castiel gave no opinion. Alex laughed. "Seriously? How'd he handle the whole--"

"--den of iniquity?"

"Is that what he called it?"

"Yes." Dean kept smiling. He lowered his voice. "You should have seen his face. I've never seen someone so scared in my life."

She looked over at Dean, giving him a shrug. "Well, you tried." She turned back to the fire, sitting down.

"You know, that's not very smart, having a fire going."

"But it's cold," Alex whined. "We're in Maine, and it's December. There is snow out there, Dean." She watched the tongues of flame lick the air. "Well, good news, Cas, you still got time to sit quietly." Castiel said nothing. Dean returned to the table across the room, flipping through his dad's journal. Alex shivered. Castiel looked down at her. He took off his trench coat and sat down beside her, wrapping it around her shoulders. Alex bumped shoulders with him as a sign of gratitude. "Was it really that bad?" she whispered.

"I did not find it pleasant."

"Well, knowing Dean, he'll keep bringing you there. You know, conquer your fear." Alex meant it as a joke, but obviously Cas didn't get it.

He looked over at her, blue eyes pleading. "Please don't make me go back."

Alex smiled up at him. "Okay. I promise I will never make you go there again."

"Thank you." Castiel continued to look at her. "Dean told me about your friend's death."

Alex returned her gaze to her lap. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry. If there's anything I could have done--"

"I get it." Alex cut him off more harshly then she intended.

Castiel turned back to the fire, lost in his own thoughts.

 

 **A** lex slept well that night. When she woke up, she felt displaced. She snapped open her eyes. The fire had dwindled to nothing more than coals. The pillow beneath her shifted, and Alex sat up when she realized she had her head in someone's lap. She embarrassedly looked over at Castiel. "Sorry," she quickly apologized.

"For what?" Castiel asked, confused, blue eyes searching hers.

"Uh, never mind." If Cas didn't understand it, Alex wasn't going to explain it. She looked around. "Where's Dean?"

"He left a few minutes ago."

"Oh, is he bringing breakfast?" Alex smiled. "Good." She stood up, and Castiel did the same. Alex walked over to the window. The Impala was nowhere in sight. She turned back to the angel. "I'm going to go get dressed." She gave him back his trench coat and grabbed her bag before heading up to the upstairs bathroom. She pulled on her faded jeans, and a black shirt. She rifled through for a jacket, pulling one out and putting it on. She hurried back down the stairs. Castiel was watching out the window.

"So, we're going to take on Raphael, eh?" she asked, entering the room.

"Is it the right thing to do?" Castiel asked, turning to her. "You of all people would know."

Alex approached, putting hand on his shoulder. "We'll be fine. And yes, I would know." She glanced out the window. "Ah, and there's Dean."

She watched the hunter walk up the steps and into the house. He tossed her a plastic bag. "Breakfast," he told her.

Alex put the bag on the table, looking in. "Breakfast tacos?"

"Yeah." He looked at Alex's unbelieving face. "Food for the kings. Now eat."

Alex did so, pulling out one. She took a drink from Dean, tasting it to find it was hot chocolate. Tacos and hot chocolate. Wonderful. "Okay. So what's our plan?"

Castiel explained. "We are going to go to the hospital. We are going to create a ring of holy fire around his vessel, then summon Raphael."

"And if he doesn't come?" Alex asked. "We should have a second ring here. Just in case."

"Good idea." Cas picked up the oil and walked into the other room, pouring a large circle on the ground.

 

 **W** hen they had finished, they all got into the car and drove off to St. Pete's Hospital. They made their way up to Room 217. A blonde nurse passed just as Alex entered the room, and Dean stopped, turning to watch. Alex elbowed him, snapping his attention back to the task at hand. She closed the door behind him, and Dean closed the blinds. Alex turned to watch Castiel, who had wheeled Donnie Finneman into the center of the room. He then proceeded to pour the oil he had brought with in a large circle, Donnie inside. "When the oil burns, no angel can touch or pass through the flames, or he dies," he told them.

"Okay, so we trap him in a steel cage of holy fire, but one question. How the hell do we get him here?"

"Very simple. There's, well, almost an open phone line between a vessel and his angel. One just needs to know how to dial." Castiel stepped closer to Donnie, leaning over him. He chanted something in the man's ear, in a foreign language. Alex assumed it to be Enochian. He then whispered, "I'm here, Raphael. Come and get me you little bastard." Then Cas stepped out the circle.

"Just out a curiosity, what is the average customer wait time to speak to an archangel?" Dean asked.

"Be ready." Castiel told him. He looked over at Alex. "Stay back." He lit a match and dropped it on the oil. It burst into flames.

They stood there for several minutes. "And . . . I'm bored." Alex said aloud. She sat down on the bed. "So, remind me. Who's brilliant idea was it to go into a public hospital and put a patient in a fucking ring of fire? How's this going to look when some nurse, like, walks in?"

Castiel looked at Dean, who was looking over at Cas. "First of all, watch your tongue. Second, in hindsight, real smooth. How do you plan to explain this?"

"We could tell them we are summoning the archangel Raphael," Castiel suggested.

"You really don't learn, do you?" Alex tilted her head to one side. "Telling the truth never really works."

 

 **T** hey spent the rest of the day there. Thankfully, any nurse that stopped by was easily sent away, none the wiser to what was really going on. Alex snuck out a few times to get food from the hospital cafeteria, but otherwise, nothing of interest happened. A few hours in, Alex spoke up. "Oh!"

"Oh, what?" Dean looked over at her. "Remember something important?"

"Uh, sort of. We should probably give Cas a phone. So he can find us when he needs to." Her idea was met with silence.

Dean eventually nodded. "Okay, sure. I have a spare one in the Impala he can have."

"Okay." Alex walked out of the room to retrieve it. She came back a few minutes later, and handed it to Cas. "You know how to work this?" When he shook his head, Alex motioned him over. "Okay. Our numbers are already programmed in." She showed him how to reach their numbers and how to call. Then she handed it to him. "Merry Christmas."

"It's not--"

"Christmas, yes. I know." Alex cut him off. She sat back down on the Donnie's bed with a small sigh.

 

 **F** inally, by 7 o'clock, they had had enough. "Okay. We're done. Raphael is obviously not coming." Dean proceeded to put out the fire. "We'll try again tomorrow."

Castiel looked like he was going to argue, but thankfully didn't.

"Thank you for your time," Alex told Donnie, who was still rocking back and forth. "Let's get out of here." They did so.

 

 **T** hey drove back to the house, pulling the Impala into the long driveway. "Well, that's a day I'll never get back." Dean declared before parking her. Alex looked out the window; the sky was dark with clouds. A storm was brewing; a large one, by the looks of it.

They got out, entering the house. "Dean, wait," Castiel warned. Alex slipped around him to see into the house. Donnie was standing in the far room. Lightning-like energy flared out from his back, looking very similar to wings. All the lightbulbs in the house shattered. Alex quickly realized that this was now Raphael.

"Castiel," the archangel acknowledged him.

"Raphael," Cas responded. Both he and Dean walked closer, and Alex followed.

"And I thought you were suppose to be impressive," Dean told him. "All you did was black out a room."

"And the Eastern Seaboard." Outside, lightning flashed, illuminating the room. "It is a testament to my unending mercy that I do not smite you right here and now."

"Or maybe you're full of crap," Dean countered. "Maybe you're afraid God will bring Cas back and smote you and your candy ass skirt. By the way, hi, I'm Dean."

"I know who you are." Raphael told him, his voice rich and deep. He looked at Castiel. "And now, thanks you him, I know where you are." He took a step forward.

"You won't kill him. You wouldn't dare, " Castiel stated.

"But I will take him to Michael."

Dean walked across the room to the cooler which now sat by the fireplace. "Well then. Sounds terrifying. It does. But, uh, hate to tell you, I'm not going anywhere with you." He grabbed a beer out of the cooler, looking over at the archangel.

"Surely you remember Zachariah giving you stomach cancer?"

"Yeah. It hilarious," Dean told him. Alex snorted in agreement.

Raphael shot a glance at Alex. "Well, he doesn't have anything close to my imagination." He stepped closer, narrowing the distance between them.

Alex held his gaze calmly, giving no reaction. Raphael's brown eyes flickered over Castiel, who had stiffened beside her.

"Yeah, well I bet you didn't imagine one thing." Dean spoke, returning Raphael's attention back to him. He looked over at Cas.

"What?" Raphael looked between the two men.

"We knew you were coming, you stupid son of a bitch." Dean suddenly lit a lighter, tossing it onto the floor. The holy oil they had put there that morning ignited, creating a large ring of fire around the archangel. He looked at Dean, eyes blazing.

"Don't look at me. It was their idea," Dean said defensively. Raphael eyed Cas and Alex.

"Sorry," Alex apologized. "He got the oil."

"Where is he?" Castiel asked, changing the subject.

"God? Didn't you hear? He's dead, Castiel."

"No." Castiel shook his head.

"But there's no other explanation. He's gone for good."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Do you remember the twentieth century? Think the twenty-first is going any better? Do you think _God_ would have let any of that happen if he was still alive?"

"Oh yeah?" Dean challenged. "Well then who invented the Chinese basket trick?"

Alex glared, and Raphael warned him, "Careful. That's my father you're talking about, boy."

"Yeah, who would be so proud to hear his sons started the friggin apocalypse!" the hunter shot back sharply.

"Who ran off and disappeared. Who left no instructions and a world to run."

"Daddy ran off and disappeared. He didn't happen to work for the post office, did he?" Dean shot a humorous glance at Castiel. Alex didn't get it.

"This is funny to you?" the archangel asked. "You're living in a godless universe."

"And? What, you and the other kids just decided to throw an apocalypse when he was gone?"

"We're tired. We just want it to be over. We just want . . . paradise."

"So what? God dies and leaves you in charge and you decided you can do whatever you want?

"Yes. And whatever we want, we get." As if to demonstrate his power, the all of the windows burst, glass flying in towards them. Alex ducked, covering her head. Both Dean and Cas did the same. A shard of glass grazed her hand, and she felt blood trickle down. Outside, the wind picked up, rain blowing into the house.

"If God is dead," Castiel asked, raising his voice above the wind, "why have I returned? Who brought me back?"

"Did it ever occur to you that Lucifer raised you?" the archangel asked, hardly even needing to raise his voice.

"No." Castiel shook his head, not wanting to believe his brother.

"Think about it. He needs all the rebellious angels he can find. It adds up."

"Don't listen to him," Alex said over the rain.

"Let's go," Castiel told them.

"Castiel, I'm warning you," Raphael spoke. "Do not leave me here. I will find you."

"Maybe one day. But today, you're my little bitch." Castiel turned to leave. He walked over to the door, stepping out into the storm. Alex followed, grabbing her bag which was sitting near the door.

"What he said." Dean followed behind her. He closed the door behind him, leaving the archangel alone. They got into the car. Dean started it up, and sped away.

 

 **T** hey drove for a few minutes, and the rain started to ease off. Dean looked over at Cas, who was sitting in the front seat. "You okay?" he asked. Castiel didn't respond. "Look, I'll be the first to tell you that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but I do know a little something about missing fathers."

Castiel looked over at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, every time I was looking for my dad when all logic said he was dead, but I knew in my heart he was still alive. Who cares what some ninja turtle says, Cas, what do you believe?"

"I believe he's out there."

"So do I." Alex added. "It wasn't Lucifer that raised you, Cas."

"Are you sure?" Castiel turned to look at Alex.

"Positive. Don't listen to what he said. He's a dick."

The angel didn't respond, but turned back to the window. "What about you?" he asked Dean. "How are you doing?"

"Honestly? I'm doing good. I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm actually good."

"Even without your brother?"

"Especially without my brother. I mean, spend so much time worrying about the son of a bitch. I mean, I've had more fun with you in the past twenty four hours than I've had with Sam in, well, years, and you're not that much fun."

Alex snickered.

"It's funny, you know, I've been chained to my family, but now that they're not here, hell, I'm happy." Dean looked over at Cas. However, he was already gone.

Alex noticed too. "Okay. Dibs on shotgun." She climbed into the front seat, accidentally kicking Dean in the head.

"Watch it," he warned.

"Sorry." Alex buckled herself in. "So, you had more fun with Cas than you've had with Sam and me?"

"Well, I mean, we've had some fun times, but most of it is just, you know, crap and stuff."

"Yeah, well, that's the job."

"Truth is, I'm always worrying for you guys. Especially you. You're not that strong, and it wouldn't take much to get you killed." He ignored Alex's quiet huff of protest. "And, I don't know. I'm scared for you, Pip."

Alex didn't respond.


	30. The End

**December 15th**

**Kansas City, Missouri**

**T** hey drove for a few hours before Dean pulled into a motel in the southern part of New York. They spent the night there, then headed out late the next morning. They drove for the rest of the day. Not even Dean really knew where he was going. Finally, that night, they decided to stop in Kansas City, Missouri. As they were looking for a motel, Alex spoke up. "So are we seriously going to hunt Lucifer?"

"Hell yeah. Son of a bitch is trouble."

"Understatement, but, yeah. Do we have a plan?"

Dean thought for a second. "I dunno, maybe, find him before he finds a meatsuit?" He pulled the Impala up next to a hotel, putting it in park. He leaned over the seat, snagging his duffle bag with two fingers. Alex got out, closing the passenger door before opening the back door to get her stuff. Behind her, she could hear someone talking. Sounded like one of those street evangelists. As Dean rounded the Impala, the man turned to them. "Excuse me, friend. But have you taken time out to think about God's plan for you?"

Dean stopped to look at him. "Too fucking much, pal." Then he entered the motel. Alex snorted in agreement, and followed. Dean checked them in, and led them up the stairs to their new room. "You know if he's found his true vessel or whatever?"

Alex hesitated. "Um, I'm fairly certain he has a vessel, but not his true vessel. That vessel hasn't consented yet."

"You mean that son of a bitch seriously needs people's consent?" Dean threw open the door, tossing his bag onto the bed.

"Well, yeah, he's an angel after all." Alex tossed her stuff onto the other bed, looking around.

"Well, then who's his true vessel? You should at least know that." Dean stopped talking when his phone rang. "Hey Cas." He listened for a while. "We're talking about the Colt, right? As in, _the_ Colt?" Dean closed the curtains that hung over the only window.

Alex wandered over to him. "Cas?" she asked.

Dean nodded. "Well, that doesn't make any sense," he told the angel on the other line. "I mean, why would demons keep a gun around that, uh, kills demons?"

"Speaker," Alex told him. He did so, and Cas' voice came over.

"What? I didn't -- I didn't get that."

Dean laughed. "You know, it's kind of funny. Talking to a messenger of God on a cellphone. It's like, you know, watching a Hell's Angel ride a moped."

"This isn't funny, Dean. The voice says I'm almost out of minutes." That made Alex laugh. "Alex?"

"Yeah, hey. What else has the voice said?"

"Okay, alright, stop teasing the angel. I'm--I'm telling you, Cas, those mooks have melted down the gun by now."

"Well, I hear differently. And if it's true and if you're still set on the insane task of killing the devil, this is how we do it."

Dean pondered this. "Okay. Where do we start?"

"Where are you now?"

"Kansas City," Alex answered

"Century Motel, room 113." Dean reached over and grabbed the room's key.

"I'll be there immediately." Castiel said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean stopped him. "No. No, come on man. I just drove for sixteen hours straight, okay? I'm human. There's stuff I got to do."

"What stuff?"

"Eat, for example. In this case, sleep. I just need like four hours once and a while, okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so you can pop in tomorrow morning."

"Yes. I'll just--"

Dean hung up. Alex looked at him. "Nice going."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know he's just going to wait there for you, right? He's probably going to stand wherever he is until tomorrow."

"No he--"

"Yeah, he will. I know because I remember this part. It was funny, yet kind of sad that he just stood on the corner until you woke up." She dialed Cas' number on her phone. "Hey, Cas?"

"Yes?"

"Alex. Listen, I slept in the car, so, if you want, I could keep you company or something? Just, I don't know, zap me over there?" The next second, she was on the street corner next to Cas. She slowly hung up. "Thanks." She looked up at him. "So, what now?"

"I was just going to wait here," Castiel replied. He fell silent, looking off into the distance.

When Alex realized he had no intentions of moving, she shook her head. "No way. We are _not_ going to stand here and do nothing. Let's go find something to eat."

She took his hand and led him down the street. There stood a restaurant with the sign, _Open 24/7_. Alex smiled, pushing open the door and stepping inside. It smelled good, and Alex inhaled deeply. On a second thought, she checked her pockets, happy to find a wad of money. "Come on. My treat. Pie? Fries?"

"No thank you."

Alex sighed and led him over to a booth. She ordered a basket of fries, and turned back to Castiel, who was watching her, unblinking. "So. How's it going?"

Castiel's head tipped slightly to one side. "Good."

"Okay." Alex said hesitantly, "You're cut off from Heaven, right?"

"Yes."

"Right." Alex let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry," Castiel said.

"Why are you sorry?" Alex laughed quietly.

Castiel opened his mouth to respond, but decided against it, turning to stare out the window. Alex sighed again.

The waitress brought her food, and Alex thanked her. "Come on, Cas. Want some?" She nudged her fries towards him. "They're really good."

"You knew this was going to happen, right?" Castiel turned back to her. "You knew I would be cut off?"

Alex closed her eyes. "Yes, but everything turns out fine, okay? Better, even. We'll get through this." Castiel didn't respond. Alex decided to change the subject. "So. Garrisons, huh. What's up with them?"

"What?" Castiel narrowed his eyes.

Alex chuckled. "I dunno. Just trying to converse."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So . . . what do you want to know about angel garrisons?"

Alex shrugged. "Everything. What they are, how they're structured, what's your role, stuff like that."

"Okay." Castiel turned to look at her. "Angels are structured into garrisons--"

"All angels?" Alex interrupted.

"No. Different angels have different jobs. Many are soldiers like I was."

"Am," Alex corrected. "Like you are."

Castiel tipped his head to one side. "I am no longer part of Heaven."

"Doesn't mean you're not a soldier. Always will be." Alex pulled her journal out of her coat pocket, turning it to a page she had intentionally left blank. "But continue. How many angels are in a garrison?"

"Fifty. One angel leads. There are seven angels under him, and then six angels under those seven. Fifty in total."

"What about your garrison?"

"I was the leader of my garrison. Before me was Anna. When she left, I was promoted. Under me is Balthazar, Abdiel, Handriel, Inias, Hestor, Yofiel, and Sabrael, who replaced Uriel when he . . . rebelled."

"Hm." Alex scribbled all of this down. "How do you spell their names?" Looking up at Castiel's face, she added, "Never mind. And then there's forty-two angels under them?"

"Yes. I assume you don't want to know all of their names."

Alex smiled. "Sorry. I'm afraid it'd all be lost on me."

"Its fine. Zachariah is my, 'boss', if you will. There are twenty garrisons under him. My garrison and a few others are in charge of watching over the Earth."

Alex nodded. "Awesome."

Castiel stopped talking for several seconds, and Alex looked up. The angel studied her. "What about you? What was your life like before?" Seeing Alex's face, he added, "Is this an appropriate topic?"

"It's fine. You mean life before I fell through?" When Castiel nodded, Alex sighed, closing her journal. "My mom died when I was seven. My dad started drinking and gambling. One day, when I was twelve, he just got up and left. He never came back. I was put into a foster family for three years. Then they died." Alex ran a hand down the side of her face, long forgotten grief flickering around her chest. "Went to another family. They had two young children of their own. They didn't like me, I didn't like them. They'd throw me out for the night if they got mad at me. That's what happened the night I fell."

"I'm sorry." Castiel seemed genuinely sympathetic. "How did your second family die?"

"Car crash." Alex blinked back tears. "I was the only survivor." She added in a small voice, "I should have died with them."

"What makes you think that?" Castiel tipped his head, studying the young girl that was sitting before him.

"Because. It wasn't fair. They were amazing people. I was just . . . me. A broken girl with a dead mom and an absent father. They should have lived." A tear slipped down her face, and Alex angrily brushed it away. "If anyone deserved to die, it would have been me."

"Perhaps you lived because God has a plan for you," Castiel offered hopelessly.

"If God loved me, he would have let me die," Alex hissed. "I deserved to die."

"Don't say that," Castiel snapped, louder than he had meant to. Alex flinched, and he lowered his voice. "I am sorry, but no one should ever say they deserve to die. Is that how you truly feel?"

Alex nodded quietly.

"Don't you have anything to live for?"

Alex shrugged.

"What about your family?"

"My family?" Alex shook her head. "They're dead, Cas. Even if they weren't, they're a whole universe away."

"Not that family. Sam and Dean."

"I highly doubt Sam considers me family," Alex scoffed. "And Dean . . . I don't know. Maybe." However, she let out a long breath. "I guess you're right. You guys are my family now. You, Sam, Dean, Bobby. You're all I've got."

Castiel let out a satisfied breath. "I know it would, hurt, them greatly if you were to die. I might be forced to bring you back from the dead."

Alex looked up at him. "Was that a joke?" When Castiel didn't respond, Alex smiled. "You made a joke, didn't you." Castiel just looked confused, and Alex laughed. "Well, thanks anyways." She pushed away the sorrow that was sitting in her chest before eating several more fries. "You sure you're not hungry?"

Castiel shook his head.

Right then, Alex's phone rang. She glanced at the ID, then frowned, glancing up at Castiel. She answered. "Uh, hello?"

"Is this Dean?" The woman's voice sounded familiar.

"Uh, this is Alex. Who is this?"

"This is Amelia Novak."

Alex's face turned into one of recognition, and then concern. "Is something wrong? How is, uh, sorry, your daughter?"

"Claire's fine. We're both fine. I just wanted to call to thank you and tell you that we're safe. There haven't been any demons after us."

"Good, good. I'm really glad."

"Is, uh, is Jimmy okay?"

"Yeah, he's just fine. I'm actually with Cas right now." Alex chuckled, "Don't worry. I'll take care of your husband. Promise."

"Thank you. If you can, tell Jimmy we're safe."

"I'll see what I can do," Alex promise.

"Thank you. Good-bye."

"Yeah, yeah. Good-bye." Alex hung up.

"Who was that?" Castiel asked.

"Amelia Novak. Jimmy's wife." Alex studied her phone, which was now sitting on the table. "Cas, is it possible to talk to Jimmy? He's still in there, right?"

"Yes." Castiel nodded. "Why?"

"I promised Amelia I'd tell him his family's okay." Alex looked up. "Can I talk to him? Just for a few minutes."

Castiel looked up at the ceiling, letting out a breath. "Of course." His eyes glowed a brilliant blue, then faded.

"What?"

Alex immediately knew it was Jimmy. "Jimmy?"

"Alex?" Jimmy looked wildly around. "What's going on?"

"Jimmy, calm down. I just need to talk to you for a while."

"Where's Castiel?"

"He's still in there. Please. Amelia called."

"Amelia?" Jimmy's eyes flashed. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. Fry?" Alex slid her plate across to him, offering her food. "Cas doesn't seem to enjoy eating."

"Thank you." Jimmy ate one. "Why did Amelia call you?"

"She wanted me to tell you that she's fine." Alex smiled. "They're safe now. And they miss you." Seeing Jimmy's broken look, she reached out, placing a hand on his. "You did the right thing. I know it's painful, and I am really, really sorry--"

"It's fine. I couldn't let the demons hurt my family."

"I get it. I do." Alex sighed. "I just, I really am sorry. It . . . doesn't hurt too bad, does it?" She looked pitifully up at the man.

Jimmy's eyes softened slightly. "You get use to it."

"Does it hurt now?" she asked softly.

Jimmy blinked, then shook his head. "No." Suddenly his eyes glowed bright blue again, and Alex knew Castiel was back. She stared into his brilliant blue eyes, which seemed somehow brighter when the angel was in control.

Castiel looked down at where Alex's hand was covering his. "I trust it went well."

Alex removed her hand from his. "Yeah, uh, yeah. It went fine. Thanks."

"No problem."

 

 **A** fter a while, Castiel stood up.

"Cas?" Alex asked. "Where you going?"

"It's been four hours," he explained. "I'm going to go get Dean."

Alex blinked, shocked that the time had flown so quickly, then dropped a few bucks on the table. "Okay. Sure."

She followed him back out and down the street. Castiel flickered for a second, and then Dean was there. "Well that was as weird as hell," she muttered, confused as well as slightly amused.

Dean blinked, looking around. His gaze came to rest on Castiel. "Well, that was pretty nice timing, Cas."

"We had an appointment."

Dean smiled and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Don't you ever change." Alex cocked her head at Dean's strange remark.

"How did Zachariah find you?" Castiel asked, narrowing his eyes to study Dean.

"Long story. Let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses from now on, okay?"

"It was the guy from in front of the motel," Alex realized. "He ratted us out? Son of a bitch."

Dean grunted in agreement and pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago." He held the phone to his ear, letting it ring. "Hello. Sam? Yeah. Dean. Listen. We need to talk." He walked off down the street, his voice fading.

"Should we follow him?" Castiel looked down at Alex.

She shook her head. "Nah."

 

 **F** ive minutes later Dean came back. "Okay. New plan." He turned to Cas. "Can you get us back to the Impala?"

In response, Castiel reached out, resting his hands on their shoulders. Then they were standing outside the car. Dean got in, and so did Alex. Castiel disappeared. "Thanks," Alex called after him. She turned  
back to Dean. "You were saying?"

"We're meeting up with Sam. Nebraska."

"Where in Nebraska?"

"Don't know yet." Dean started the car, then paused. "Dammit. Our bags are still up in that room." He turned off the car. "Go get them, okay?"

"Uh, okay." Alex started to get out of the car. "But how do I get into the room?" In response, Dean tossed her the keys.

"Great," Alex mumbled. "If I don't come back, assume Zach got me."

Dean snorted. "Quit whining and get up there."

Alex hurried into the motel and quickly grabbed their stuff. She left the door open and the key on the floor next to it, then hurried back outside. She passed the same Jehovah Witness who had talked to them four hours ago. "Traitor," she muttered, stopping beside him. He stared back, confused. Alex dropped the bags and punched him in the face. Then she stormed off to the Impala, ignoring the crowd of people behind as they rushed to help the injured man. She threw the bags into the back seat, got into the car with a huff.

Dean started at her. "You're insane."

"Just drive."

Dean acquiesced.

 

 **"U** h, Dean? Can I ask you something?" Alex broke the silence.

Dean glanced over at her. "This isn't going to be some girly thing, right?"

Alex snorted in amusement. "No."

"Good." Dean adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. "Okay. Shoot."

Alex hesitated, looking out the window. She felt Dean's gaze land back on her, and she let out a long breath. "I, uh -- we're family, right?"

Dean didn't immediately respond, and Alex closed her eyes. "Why you ask?" he finally said.

"I, just . . . I-I was just wondering. I mean, I don't have any family of my own, so . . ." She trailed off, not sure how to finish her thought. "Never mind."

"Of course you're family," Dean said firmly, looking over to meet her eyes. "But you know what that means, right? It's not just rainbows and unicorns."

Alex rolled her eyes at his statement. "Of course not. I mean, look at us. Two hunters, an old drunk, a fallen angel and a lost girl? I get it, Dean. We're homeless, we're broken, and to be perfectly honest you guys are total dicks sometimes, but, hey. I'd still die for any and all of you in a heartbeat."

Dean nodded. "That's all I ask." They fell back into silence.

Alex opened her mouth again. "What happened?" she asked. "You said Zachariah was there."

"He was." Dean's mouth curled slightly into a snarl.

"And . . ? What? You guys just had a nice little chat?"

"I was in 2014."

Alex nodded thoughtfully. "That was supposed to be a nice year," she said. "Little shitty, but not bad."

"No. This, this was bad." Dean shifted his grip on the steering wheel uncomfortably. "It was a freaking zombie apocalypse. I was there. Future me. And, uh, future Cas."

"Oh? What was he like?"

"Different." Dean's voice was blunt. "He fell. I -- it was weird, man. He-He was like a . . . a fricken love guru."

Alex let out a breath of confused laugher. "A what?"

"He--He--" Dean seemed to have trouble finding the right words. "He was into drugs, orgies, he was messed up." Dean looked over at her, eyes slightly hurt. "The poor guy was broken beyond repair."

Alex frowned sympathetically. "Really? Cas? Brown hair, blue eyes, trench coat Cas?"

"Yeah."

"What about you? What were you like?" Alex's frown deepened when Dean fell into silence. Her voice softened. "Dean?"

"I killed them." Dean's voice cracked slightly. "Future me sent them all in as decoys. They _died_. I killed Cas and Lisa and . . ." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Decoys? Where you hunting something?"

"We were hunting Sam." Dean's green eyes flashed with pain. "He was there. He . . . he's Lucifer vessel."

Silence.

Dean looked over at Alex, who nodded understandingly. "You knew."

"It's hard to forget that," Alex admitted.

"And I suppose that was another thing you weren't going to tell me."

"What good would it have done?" Alex countered, irritated at Dean's tone. "You knowing wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, you would have pushed Sam away even further."

Dean didn't argue.

"What about me?" Alex awkwardly asked the question. "W-Was I . . . weird?"

Dean was silent for a second, and Alex raised an eyebrow. He finally spoke. "You weren't there."

"What?"

"You were dead."

Alex sat in silence for a second, wrapping her head around that. Then she closed her eyes. "Good."

Dean looked over at her, frowning. "Good?"

"Yeah. How did I die? Bloody, probably. Better yet, when?"

"Zachariah." Dean snarled out the name. "Or some angel. I don't know." His eyes grew sad, and they returned to the road. "They tortured you. A, uh, about a deal or something."

Alex tensed. "Oh. What was the deal about?"

Dean noticed her hesitation. "About me. And Michael and Lucifer. You were suppose to get me to be Michael's vessel. You didn't. Cas said he brought you back before the angels left, but you died before he could get you help."

Alex felt tears stinging her eyes. "Sounds painful," she admitted, voice breaking only slightly.

"Well, don't worry. That's not going to happen." Dean glanced over at her, face dark. "I won't let it."

They fell into silence.

 

 **T** hey arrived in Nebraska late that afternoon. Dean had set up a meeting spot with Sam over lunch, and now they were waiting for his arrival next to an old stone bridge. Alex sat on the hood, and Dean was leaning against the side when a car drove up, coming to a halt next to them. Sam got out and approached.

"Sam." Dean pulled the demon knife out of his jacket, holding it out by the blade. Sam looked at it nervously. "If you're serious and you want back in . . . you should hang on to this. I'm sure you're rusty."

Sam nodded, and he took the knife. He glanced at Alex, but refused to meet his brother's eyes.

"Look, man," Dean started, "I'm sorry. I'm . . . whatever I need to be. But I was, uh . . . wrong."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Long story. The point is, maybe we are each other's Achille's heels. Maybe they'll find a way to use us against each other, I don't know. I just we're all we've got. More than that. We keep each other human."

There was a slight pause, then Sam finally spoke. "Thank you. Really. Thank you. I-I won't let you down."

"Oh, I know it. I mean, you are the second-best hunter in the world."

Sam smiled slightly at his brother's joke, and gave a small nod. "So, what do we do now?"

"We make our own future."

"Guess we have no choice."

"Of course not." Dean nodded, casting a glance at Alex. She ignored him, staring straight ahead. This was their moment, not hers.

"What about Alex?" Alex turned her head at the sound of her name.

"She's coming with," Dean replied stubbornly. Sam started to protest, but Dean cut him off. "She's family, Sam. Whether you want to admit it or not." He got into the car. He looked over at the car Sam had driven there. "You coming with us, or in that?"

Sam got into the passenger seat, casting one last look at his car. "It's stolen anyways," he admitted.

Dean chuckled as Alex got into the back. "That's my boy."


	31. Christmas in December

**A** lex leaned her head against the cool window pane. He stomach churned uneasily, and she closed her eyes.

"You okay back there?"

Alex felt Dean's eyes on her, and she tried to look fine. "I'll be fine," she told him, forcing herself to make eye contact.

"You don't look so hot." Dean glanced at his brother, and Sam finally turned to look at Alex.

He reached back, placing a large palm over her forehead. "Feels hot enough to me," he joked dryly.

"Well, no puking in the car." Dean turned his eyes back to the road.

"Thanks for your concern," Alex groaned, returning her forehead to the glass.

 

 **S** he managed not to throw up in the car ride, even though it seemed like Dean intentionally hit every bump. She stumbled into the motel bathroom, bile rising in her throat. She barely got the door closed before she was bent over the toilet, vomiting.

She was pretty sure she puked up everything in her stomach, and then some. There was a hesitant knock on the door. "Alex? You okay in there?"

Alex spit once more into the toilet before flushing it. Then she leaned against the wall. "I'm, I'm okay," she called back weakly.

The door opened, and Dean stepped in. He handed her bottled water. "Here."

"Thanks." Alex closed her eyes, her body aching from the physical exertion she had just been through. She heard Dean leave as another wave of nausea swept through her.

 

 **W** hen she had finally stopped vomiting, she leaned back against the wall, regaining her strength. There she waited. Her stomach felt better, and she was confident she could make it to the bed. She shakily pulled herself to her feet and stumbled out into the room. Dean was sitting at the table, and looked up when Alex appeared. His face immediately twisted into one of concern. "Are you okay?"

"No." Alex collapsed on the nearest bed, pulling her legs in close. "I feel like hell."

Dean frowned and murmured sympathetically.

"Where's Sam?" Alex asked, even though she couldn't care less.

"Went out. Dinner, I think." Dean smirked. "I hope he's bringing back something greasy. Maybe pulled pork, or hamburgers --"

"Damn you, Dean," Alex groaned, falling back on the bed. "Damn you back to hell."

Dean just laughed.

 

 **S** am came back less than an hour later. "How's Pip feeling?" he asked his brother.

"Not good." Alex heard Dean close his laptop. "She's pretty sick."

The bed dip, and a hand rested on Alex's forehead. Alex leaned into his cool touch, and Sam sighed. "Great."

Alex buried herself back into the bed, wiggling under the covers.

 

 **I** t was the next day that Sam got sick. Alex heard him retching in the bathroom. Dean was grumbling something about this being Alex's fault before he yelled something to them and stalked out.

Sam collapsed on the bed next to her, completely spent. Alex, feeling only slightly better, sat up, looking down at the hunter. His hair was damp and sticking to his sweaty face. Alex gently brushed the hair out of his face. "You too?"

"Don't talk to me." Sam rolled away from her.

Exhaustion pulled at Alex's limbs, and she lay back down, pressing her back into Sam's. She slowed her breathing to match his, falling into an uneasy sleep.

 

 **F** our days later, Alex was back on her feet. Unfortunately, Sam was still sick, and Dean had fallen ill late last night. Alex saw Dean dart into the bathroom, and soon followed the sound of retching.

Sam started to gag, and Alex stood up, hurrying over to him. She picked up the trash can, sitting beside Sam as he sat up, reaching for it. He started vomiting, and Alex pulled back his hair, rubbing his back comfortingly. When he had finished, Alex knocked on the bathroom door, stepping in past Dean to empty and clean the can.

She helped Dean back into the bed next to Sam before grabbing the car keys. "This is some nasty stomach bug." Alex grabbed Dean's wallet off of the counter. "I'm going to go get some lunch for you. Don't die."

Both of the Winchesters grunted in response, and Alex took it as the go ahead.

 

 **W** hen she got back, she began cooking up the soup she had gotten. "I splurged," she joked to the hunters on the bed. "I got the fun soup. Scooby-Doo. Mystery hunter soup for mystery hunters like you."

Dean groaned. "I'm not five," he grumbled.

Alex chuckled and looked at the other can. "I also got Phineas and Ferb soup. Which would you like?"

"Scooby-Doo."

"Phineas and Ferb."

The brothers glared at each other, engaging in a small wrestling match between them. However, it was fairly weak, and they quickly broke apart.

"Settle down," Alex chastised. "You're still sick. Scooby it is. Tomorrow we'll have the other can."

Dean mumbled his protest, and Sam managed a grin.

 

 **A** fter she had cooked up lunch -- and gotten bowls and spoons out of the trunk -- she brought two bowls over to the Winchesters.

"Is this all?" Dean grumbled, looking down at the meager portions.

"When you eat all this, you can have more. I want to make sure you can keep it down first." Alex returned to the stove.

Dean began eating, but Sam only took two bites before putting his on the nightstand.

Alex frowned, walking over to sit next to Sam. "Eat more," she persisted. When Sam shook his head, Alex placed her hand on her forehead. He was burning. "Sam, you need to eat. You'll feel better, I promise."

"I can't." Sam rolled away from her.

Alex looked at Dean worriedly. "I'll take more," he offered.

Alex took his bowl and gave him the rest of the soup. When he looked down at it, he asked, "Aren't you going to eat something?"

Alex shook her head. "You guys need it more. I'm not hungry."

Dean frowned. "You need to eat, Pip."

Alex placed a hand on his forehead. He was still very warm. "I'll eat later. Dean. Eat the soup. Your body's fighting hard. Trust me. It'll appreciate the support."

Dean grumbled something that sounded like 'bossy' and 'jerk,' but did as he was asked.

"Good boy," Alex joked, rubbing his hair messily.

Dean moved his head away sullenly. Alex's stomach growled, and Dean stopped eating. "That's it. Eat." He shoved his bowl into her hands. "I'm done."

"Dean --"

"Eat it. You're hungry."

"I've been hungry before."

"So have I."

"Dean. Eat the damn soup--"

"No, you eat the damn soup. I've already had a bowl. I won't eat it, so you may as well."

Alex glared at the hunter, but gratefully acquiesced. She wolfed down the soup before turning back to Sam. His eyes were closed, and breathing shallow. Suddenly he twitched, eyes fluttering open. "The fuck?" he muttered, then gagged.

He stumbled to his feet, and Alex guided him to the bathroom. Then she returned to Dean, yawning. She looked back towards the bathroom. "I've never seen him that bad," she admitted quietly. "He's really sick."

"Get some sleep," Dean mumbled. "We'll be okay for a while."

Alex didn't protest. She had been kept up all night, and sleep sounded good. She quickly got two glasses of water and put them on the nightstand. "Drink," she commanded, then collapsed in the other bed.

 

**December 23rd, 2009**

**D** ean recovered within three days. Sam had been hit the hardest, making a slow recovery. Finally, after six days of being sick, the fever broke, and he was well enough to eat fully by the next evening.

One night, Dean came back to the motel room carrying several plastic bags. "What's that?" Alex asked.

"Food. And Christmas presents. It's Christmas Eve."

Alex narrowed her eyes. "Today? Fuck."

"Swearing."

"Sorry." Alex got up, shocked. "Christmas. How in the fricken world did I forget?"

Dean smirked. "You need to borrow the car?"

"Can I?"

In response, Dean tossed her the keys. "While you're at it, pick up Sammy. He's at the bar down the street."

Alex huffed. "No problem."

"And be careful!"

 

 **T** he bar was the first place she went. She parked the Impala, locked it, then stepped inside. She wandered around, looking for the ever familiar form of Sam Winchester. Not seeing him, she sat down at the bar, pulling out her phone. She pulled up her text-chat with Sam. _Where are you?_

"Hey, sweetheart." A man sat down next to her.

Alex glanced over at him. "Hey."

"How's it going?"

Alex smirked at the cocky nonchalantness on his face. "Good," she replied innocently. Her phone buzzed. _Where are you?_ read the reply. She frowned, sliding out the keyboard. _At the bar. Gotta pick u up._

"Who you texting? Boyfriend?"

Alex looked up at him, a smile playing on her lips.

The man slid two one hundred bills over to her. Alex watched out of the corner of her eyes. Wedding band on his left hand. This guy was a douche _and_ a cheater. "How much can I get for this?"

Alex grinned, taking the bills. Then she leaned close, beckoning him to do the same. The man tipped his head closer, eyes traveling down her body. Alex kissed him on the cheek. Then she jumped off of the bar stool and hurried away, leaving the man, dumbfounded. She quickly found Sam. "There you are."

"So you're here to pick me up?"

"Dean's orders." Alex pulled the keys out of her pocket. "You done here?" She turned to see the man looking for her. When he spotted her, he stopped, also seeing the moose of a man next to her. Alex took Sam's hand, tugging him towards the door. "Come on," she whined.

"What?" Sam looked down at their hands.

Alex turned to look at him, taking a step closer so she was almost pressed against his chest. Sam blushed almost immediately. "Some guy wanted sex and gave me two hundred dollars," she explained quietly, so quietly that Sam had to dip his head to hear. "I took the money, kissed him on the cheek, and walked away. Now he's looking at us, but doesn't want to confront you. Can we go now?"

Sam grinned. "You're an outright thief. At least I hustle pool."

Alex shook her head. "He _gave_ me the money. And I kissed him on the cheek. All was fair. Call it . . . an investment that didn't pan out. Plus he was married. Dude got what he deserved." She led Sam away.

 

 **A** fter dropping Sam off, Alex hurried over to the nearby Target. She closed her eyes as she stepped through the doors and was blasted with warm air. She hurried into the store, knowing it closed in half an hour. "What to get, what to get," she mumbled. "Can't get alcohol. That's all they fucking like."

She turned into the clothing isle, pausing. There was a black Metallica t-shirt on one of the racks. She twisted her head, seeing what size shirt she was currently wearing -- it was Dean's, after all. Medium. She flipped through the folded shirts, pulling out a medium. She nodded approvingly. Dean didn't have one of these. And he sure did love his Metallica tape. "Now for Sammy," she grumbled.

She hurried to the other side of the store, utterly confused as to what to get the other hunter. She quickly found herself in the book section. She spotted a book, and a smile grew across her face. _The Egyptian Book of the Dead._ She picked it up, flipping through it. It had old Egyptian spells, hymns, and symbols. Bingo.

 

 **A** fter checking out, Alex hurriedly drove back to the motel. Sam and Dean were there, deep in conversation. Alex grunted a 'hi' to them, then sat down on the bed. "You got Christmas gifts?" Dean joked.

Sam frowned. "You seriously didn't need to get us anything."

Alex shrugged. "The least I could do."

"She got two hundred bucks, Sammy," Dean joked.

"Oh yeah." Alex got up, walking over to them. She pulled out the leftover change, handing it to Dean. "Here."

Dean took it. "What's it for?" He counted the money. One hundred and fifty-seven dollars.

Alex shrugged again. "I owe you. You guys pay for all my meals."

She returned to her place on the bed. Sam went into the bathroom. Then Dean spoke again. "You don't need to pay me back, Pip."

"No, I kind of do."

Dean just shook his head. "Pip, I'm not stupid. You always get the cheapest stuff on the menus, I don't remember the last time you've ever just gone out and bought something --"

"I don't need anything," Alex grumbled.

Dean ignored her. "Does this have anything to do with last January? Your birthday?"

Alex visibly winced. "So?"

Dean sighed, and Sam came back into the room. The conversation died.

 

 **A** lex awoke that night with nightmares. She sat up, breathing heavily.

"Bad dream?" Dean was sitting at the table on his laptop.

Alex nodded. "You still up?" she asked, trying to change the conversation.

"Was just about to go to bed." Dean closed his laptop. "I guess now is as good a time as any." He walked over to the bed. Sam shifted in his sleep, spreading his long legs across the bed, taking up much of the room.

Dean lay down next to Alex, and she let out a happy noise at the back of her throat. As Dean got settled on his back, she curled up on his chest, his presence comforting her immensely. Dean let her.

 

 **W** hen she awoke, Dean was still there, their limbs entangled. Alex didn't move, too comfortable cuddling with Dean to want to get up. She shifted gently into a more comfortable position, and Dean stirred. He tiredly rolled onto his stomach, and Alex reluctantly sat up. Sam was near the kitchenette, and Alex smelled that he was making them a breakfast. "Morning, Moose." She got up.

"Morning, Pip."

Alex tiredly rubbed her eyes, yawning deeply. "What's for breakfast?"

"Did I hear breakfast?"

Alex turned to look at Dean. She sat back down on the bed, smacking Dean gently on foot. "Oh, now you wake up."

Dean grinned, getting up. He pushed Alex on the shoulder, sending her flat on her back. She groaned dramatically, sitting back up.

"Merry Christmas." Dean walked over to the kitchenette, pulling out a beer.

 

 **T** hey had a quick breakfast. Dean disappeared into the bathroom to change. Then Alex walked over to her bag. "Putting on a shirt," she half-called, pulling off Dean's t-shirt she was wearing. Then she reached for another, cleaner one.

Sam tipped his head. "Hang on." He stood up, walking over to Alex.

She paused, shirt in hand. "What's up?"

Sam poked her in her left side. "What happened?"

Alex looked down at the pale skin. "What are you talking about?" There was nothing wrong.

Sam looked into her face. "Last summer you got mauled by a werewolf. I had to stitch you up!" His gaze returned to her side.

"Oh." Alex blushed slightly. Her fingers traced the skin from her ribs and down to her hips. "Cas . . . He visited me while I was at Bobby's. He wanted to know where you guys were. He -- I told him not to do it." Her hand dropped to her thigh. "I still have the scar there, but it's pretty faint."

Dean stepped out of the bathroom. He barely cast a glance at Alex, who was still only in sweatpants and a bra. He himself was only wearing a pair of boxers. Alex let out an amused breath, pulling on her shirt. They weren't really big on modesty anymore.

Dean grabbed two plastic bags, handing them out. "Merry Christmas, bitches."

He tossed a bag at Alex, then handed the other to Sam. Sam opened his first. "Hey," he smiled. "More porn." He tossed a magazine on the table, grinning. Then he glanced at Alex. "Hands off."

Alex huffed. "Don't want it." She began to wonder what Dean had gotten from her. Porn as well? She blushed. No. She pushed the thought away. Dean hardly let her swear; she highly doubted he would buy her porn.

Meanwhile, Sam had also pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He let out a whistle. "And Jefferson's Reserve? Damn! How much did that cost you?"

"It's Christmas, Sammy. Price doesn't matter." He turned to Alex. "Go on. Take a look."

Alex blushed, suddenly very self aware. She opened the plastic bag, reaching inside. It was a shirt. Black. She unfolded it, then let out a wide grin. It was the ACDC shirt she had almost gotten Dean at Target. "You serious?" she grinned, turning it so Sam could see.

Dean shrugged. "You like them."

Alex grabbed the bag with the shirt she had gotten for Dean had tossed it to him. He caught it, pulling out the shirt. He grinned as well. "Aw, Pip. How'd you know?"

Alex grinned. "Took a gamble. I almost got you this shirt." She held up the ACDC shirt. Dean chuckled. "And Sammy." Alex fished out the bag with the book she had gotten for Sam. She stood up, handing it to him.

He took it. "Ah, nice." He pulled out the book, flipping through it. "Are those real spells?"

"As far as I know, yeah." Alex shrugged. "I mean, I'm not a expert on Egyptian . . ." she trailed off when Dean started talking to his brother. She sulked on the bed, flipping on the tv. No one actually listened to her. She shook the thought off. It wasn't their fault. She was just too damn quiet sometimes.

"Alex." Sam tossed her a small wrapped package. "Got you something too."

"Aw, Sammy. You shouldn't have." Alex unwrapped it. "Awesome. I've been needing a new one of these." It was a spring-assist knife.

"Yeah, I know." Sam turned back to his conversation with Dean, and Alex let out the smallest hint of a sigh.


	32. Fallen Idols

**January 2nd, 2010**

**I** t was about a week later. One day, Dean came back from a bar. "Pack up, I've got us a case."

Alex immediately started, and Sam looked up. "What?"

"A case. You remember those, right?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "I mean, about what?"

"I'll tell you about it in the car." Dean grinned with amusement. "Down in Canton, Ohio. You feeling well enough to leave?"

"I'm fine." Sam got up, throwing his stuff into his backpack. "We'll leave in a few minutes."

 

 **D** ean went to check them out, and Sam and Alex packed the car. Within ten minutes, they were on the road.

Dean had just finished telling some story of what had happened at the bar he had been at that night, and it has Sam almost in stitches. Alex just rolled her eyes.

When he finished, Sam took a deep breath. "So." He let let out another chuckle. "What's with this job?"

"Dude suffers head-on collision with a parked car?" Dean looked over at his brother. "I'd say that's worth checking out."

"Yeah, definitely, but, uh, we got bigger problems, don't you think?"

"I'm sure the apocalypse'll still be there when we get back."

There was a pause.

"Right, yeah, but I mean if -- if the Colt is really out there somewhere --"

"Hey. We've been looking for a week, and we got bupkis."

"Okay. But Dean, I mean . . . if we're gonna ice the devil --"

"That's what we're doing, okay?" Dean snapped. "End of discussion."

They fell into a long silence, and Alex awkwardly slumped in the back seat.

Finally Dean spoke again. "Listen. It's just that this is our first case back to together, alright? I, I think we gotta ease back into it, put the training wheels back on."

"So you think I need training wheels," Sam said tersely.

"No. 'We.' 'We' need training wheels, you, me, and Alex. As a team. Okay?"

"Okay." Alex agreed, sitting up.

Sam nodded as well. "Okay."

"Man, I really want this to be a fresh start. For all of us."

There was a pause, but then Sam nodded again. "Yeah, okay."

"Which means no more blaming each other for the damn apocalypse. No more arguing, no more picking fights with Pip."

"Yeah. I get it."

They fell into silence. Dean turned up his music, and Alex leaned her forehead against the cool glass, yawning.

 

**Canton, Ohio**

**T** hey arrived at their destination a few hours later. Dean checked them into a nearby motel, and they quickly there. Sam immediately went to bed, still recovering from his sickness. Alex also crawled into bed, curling up.

 

 **S** he woke at two in the morning. Both Sam and Dean were fast asleep in the other bed. Alex shivered, and crawled out of bed. Then she crawled in between the two Winchesters. Dean stirred, and Alex could tell he was still wearing his clothes. She curled up around his back, snuggling close.

"Whatcha doing?" Dean slurred, tired and slightly buzzed.

"Cold," Alex whispered back, shimmying under the covers beside the Winchesters. "You guys are warm."

"Damn right we are," Dean whispered back, closing his eyes. He fell back to sleep.

"Whatever you say, Dean," Alex chuckled. She fell asleep, comforted by the hunters on either side of her.

 

_**S** am brushed light kisses on the inside of her wrist, making Alex shiver. She carded her hands through his soft hair, back slightly arching off of the bed. The hunter shifted closer, attention slowly but surely moving up her arm. Alex ran her hands over his back, feeling the rise and fall of the solid mass of muscles and skin. _

_Sam gently pushed the hem of her shirt aside, kissing up her neck. Alex squirmed under his relentless teasing, until finally, he reached her lips. He kissed her, gently at first, hand gripping the side of her face. He slid his tongue along the seam of her lips, and Alex opened her mouth, eyes closed in bliss. The hunter's warm body pressed against hers, radiating heat. Hands slipped under her shirt, running upwards until --_

Alex woke up. Her eyes fluttered open, still not fully awake, and she rolled over, trying to bring back the warm feelings of her dream. However, as the memories came back, she blushed deeply, sitting up awkwardly. "Fuck." The word slipped out before she could stop herself. She looked around, and she was alone. Breakfast sat on the counter, a note scrawled on the paper bag. Alex padded over to it, yawning. It was Dean's handwriting. Went to check out case. Eat.

Alex rolled her eyes, opening the bag. Yup. Sandwich. Why did Dean always get breakfast foods in the form of sandwiches? Grumbling, she settled down to eat, pushing her dream as far away from her conscious memories as possible.

 

 **S** he didn't get a call from either of them. A little after twelve, Sam stepped in the door, carrying a brown paper bag. He tossed it on the table, grunting a hello. Then he disappeared into the bathroom, grabbing his bag on the way.

"Good morning to you, too!" Alex yelled after him, residing to the food.

Sam came back out a minute later. "Hey."

"Hey. Where's Dean?"

"Dunno. Said he had something he needed to do." Sam sat down at the table next to her. "How was your morning?"

Alex shrugged, shifting slightly away as her dream came back to her. She blushed, adverting her eyes. "Watched tv. Nothing special. What's up with this case?"

"Uh, a guy named Cal Mitchell got his head slammed into the windshield of a parked car with the force of a 80mph collision." Sam slid her a picture of the crime scene.

Alex cringed. "Ooh," she winced. "Nasty. I, I thought the point of windshields were so your face wouldn't get sliced off."

Sam shrugged, amused by her reaction. "Yeah, uh, I guess so." He sighed, opening up the grocery bag, and pulled out a loaf of bread, a hand of bananas, and a jar of peanut butter, along with utensils and paper plates he had gotten out of the Impala. Alex watched him as he made himself a peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich. Then he made one for her.

She grunted her thanks. "So, any ideas who killed him?"

Sam didn't speak for several seconds as he chewed on a sticky bite of his sandwich. "Uh, cops think it was Jim Grossman," He finally got out. His tongue darted out to lick peanut butter off his lips, and Alex tore her gaze away. Sam didn't notice. "He was there when Cal died. But he says he was in the house, and heard tires squealing and glass breaking. He has a film of him finding Cal's body." Sam pulled out a small slip of paper. "The car was called 'Little Bastard.' Uh, apparently owned by James Dean, killed a lot of people or something. We checked it out. VIN number matched, but we got the engine number to confirm." Sam huffed. "That's why I'm stuck here." He stuffed the rest of sandwich inside his mouth before reaching for his laptop. He pulled several papers out of the case folder, laying them around.

Alex left him to work in silence.

 

 **S** am worked for almost five hours straight. Finally, at around 5 pm, Sam's phone rang. He answered. "Hey." He sighed, shifting through his papers. "Took me a while, but I traced all the car's previous owners."

Pause.

"Nope. In fact--" He was cut off, face darkening. "Dean, are you in a bar?"

Pause.

Sam frowned angrily. "I've been working my ass off here." He was cut off, and listened. "Actually, you didn't." He shifted through the pages again, pulling one. "The car's first owner was a cardiologist in Philadelphia; drove it 'till he died in 1972."

Pause.

"The Porsche is not, nor has it ever been, James Dean's car. It's a fake Little Bastard."

Pause.

Sam sighed. "Good question." After another pause, he said goodbye and hung up.

Alex glanced over at him. "Another theory out the window?" she guessed.

Sam nodded, closing his laptop in frustration. He walked over to the bed, falling ungracefully onto the mattress. Alex tossed him the remote, and he changed the channel.

Alex shivered, cold. According to the news, tonight was suppose to be even colder than the last. She considered going over to the other bed with Sam, but her dream made her hesitate. Finally, her physical discomfort outweighed her emotional one, and she got up and moved, curling up against Sam's side.

Sam shifted slightly, looking down at her. "Uh . . ." he began uncomfortably.

Despite herself, Alex smirked. "Cold," she whimpered, twisting to look up at him with her best puppy eyes.

Sam held her gaze for a second, then sighed. "Fine," he consented. Then he got up.

"Sam!" Alex protested loudly, pouting slightly.

"Relax. I'm getting a beer." Sam returned a few seconds later. Alex took the opportunity to slip under the covers. Sam lay back down on top of them, making sure to keep his side pressed against the young girl's back. She snuggled back into him, shivering from the cold.

 

 **A** fter a few hours, he shifted, looking down at Alex. She was fast asleep, eyes closed peacefully. As he watched, her mouth twitched, eyes squeezing together. He knew she was dreaming, and smiled briefly. He returned to his show.

 

 **A** lex awoke. There was still a body next to her, and she rolled, seeking the warmth. She snuggled into the warm chest, mumbling something incoherent.

Hesitant hands came to rest on her back, and Alex opened her eyes, inhaling. She knew who it was by smell. "Morning, Sammy," she mumbled, reluctantly rolling away.

Sam willingly let her go. "Uh, uh, yeah. Morning." He got up, walking over to the heater, turning it on. This time, it hoarsely purred to life.

"Dean not back?" Alex sat up, looking around.

"Nope."

Alex studied the hunter. He had changed into sweatpants and a light grey v-neck. "Out with a girl?" she guessed.

Sam turned to face her, running hands through his messy hair. "Uh, yeah, probably." He grabbed a pair of jeans, disappearing into the bathroom to change.

When he came back out, the room was noticeably warmer, and Alex tossed off the sheets. She watched at the hunter pulled off his shirt, revealing his well-muscled torso.

"Sammy?" Alex finally drawled, stifling a yawn. She placed her elbows on her knees, head in her hands, looking up at the hunter. "How come you don't get laid more?"

Sam immediately blushed, and Alex bit back a satisfied smirk. "I, uh, well . . ." Sam stuttered, and Alex continued.

"I mean, like, you're not an ugly guy. And you're built like a bull --" She cut off as Sam turned awkwardly, and she smirked. "Sorry, Sammy. I just like to see you blush." When Sam didn't respond, Alex frowned, worried. "Sammy? Sam? Hey. You okay, man?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine." Sam pulled on his shirt and grabbed his cell, calling Dean. Alex fell back on the bed, sighing.

 

 **D** ean came back within the hour. "Morning, peasants," he teased, tossing his keys on the table. He was still dressed in his suit, but it was obvious that it had spent the night crumpled on the floor.

"Oh mighty king," Alex shot back, bowing dramatically. "We thank you for gracing us with your presence, high one."

Sam huffed in amusement, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. Point taken." He looked around. "You hear?"

"About the murder? Yeah, I heard." Sam crossed his arms, still slightly pissed at his brother. He turned his attention back to his laptop.

Dean didn't notice. "Alrighty, then. Shall we?"

"Dean," Alex whined. "What about breakfast? I'm hungry."

Dean glanced at her, blinking. "Fine," he finally consented. "You can come, we'll go for breakfast afterwards."

Sam disappeared into the bathroom to change, and Alex reluctantly nodded.

 

 **T** hey arrived at the crime scene within twenty minutes. Sam and Dean got out, and Alex sulked in the backseat, still quite hungry. She watched them disappear into the building before sliding into the front seat, turning on the stereo. After much convincing, Dean had left the keys in the car, warning her that if she turned the engine on, he would end her.

She turned up the music, and _ACDC_ filled the car. She drummed along, losing herself in the music.

 

 **A** fter about ten minutes, she got bored and got out of the car, pocketing the keys. She pulled her jacket tighter, the cold January air biting at her exposed skin. A woman sat against the house, wrapped in a blanket. A police officer was taking to her, and, as Alex watched, Sam and Dean came out of the house. They walked over to the woman, and Alex started to approached.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder. "You can't go over there." Alex turned to see a police officer. "It's a crime scene."

Alex huffed angrily. "I'll go where I damn want," she muttered.

"Alex." Alex looked up to see Dean. He motioned her over, and Alex brushed the hand off her shoulder, stepping forward. However, Dean hurried forward to meet her. "I told you to wait in the car."

Alex stopped, frowning. "What?"

"Wait in the car."

"I'm hungry," the young girl pouted. "You promised breakfast."

"Is she with you?" an officer asked, and Alex recognized him as the sheriff.

Dean huffed, glancing over his shoulder. "Barely." He turned back to Alex. "Car. Now."

Alex pouted, but did as he said. She angrily slid across the hood of the car, ignoring Dean as he threatened to kill her if she did that again. She got into the front seat and started the car, turning up the heat on full blast.

 

 **A** few minutes later, Sam and Dean got into the car, and Alex ungracefully fell into the backseat. "About time," she muttered, straightening her coat. "It's cold."

"It's January."

Alex leaned over the front seat. "Breakfast?" she asked, giving Dean her puppy eyes.

"Breakfast." They drove away.

 

 **I** n the warmth of a nearby diner, Alex slid in next to Dean, pressing her still-cold body into his. The waitress came by, and Alex ordered hot pancakes. Dean ordered eggs and coffee -- black -- and Sam got bacon and eggs.

"So," Alex asked. "What'd you guys learn?"

Sam glanced at Alex and Dean in amusement. "Uh, man named William Hill was shot in the head. His maid described the killer as, get this, Abraham Lincoln."

"Lincoln?" Alex raised an eyebrow unbelievingly. "As in, the president."

"Oh, yeah," Dean said sarcastically. "Tall man, beard, sombrero --"

"Sombrero?" Alex looked up at Dean.

Sam frowned in dis-amusement. "The witness spoke Spanish. The Spanish word for hat is sombrero."

"Yeah, uh, okay." Alex accepted her food as the waitress slid her plate in front of her. "Okay."

 

 **A** fter breakfast they returned to the motel room. Both Winchesters pulled out their laptops, and they fell into silence. Alex flopped on the bed, bored. She turned on the tv.

Half an hour later, Dean frowned. "Woah."

Alex sat up. "What?" Sam echoed her question.

Dean stared at something on his screen. "It's a freeze-frame from Jim Grossman's video."

Alex got up and walked over to him. However, Dean spun the laptop so Sam could see. Alex let out a small noise of protest.

Dean ignored her. "Am I crazy, or does that look like James Dean?"

Sam studied the screen. "That looks like James Dean," he concurred.

"Doesn't mean you're not crazy," Alex muttered as Dean spun the laptop back so she could see. In the corner of the screen was a shadowy figure. Alex, not actually knowing what James Dean looked like, just grunted.

"So we've got Abraham Lincoln and now James Dean?" he pondered. "Famous ghosts?"

Sam frowned. "Maybe," he half-heartedly agreed.

"Well that's just silly."

"No, actually, there is tons of lore on famous ghosts. More than the, you know, not famous kinds. I'm actually surprised we've never run into one before."

"Yeah, but now we got two of them? Two extremely pissed off ghosts?"

Alex sat down in a chair, joining the conversation.

"Who apparently are ganking their fans," Sam added. Alex grunted in agreement. Having not been to either of the crime scenes, she knew squat.

"Fans? What do you mean?"

It was Sam's turn to spin his laptop. "Professor Hill was a civil war nut. He--"

"Professor Harold Hill?" Alex joked.

"Who?"

"Oh come on." Alex rolled her eyes.

" _Music Man_ ," Sam explained to his brother shortly.

"I don't watch musicals."

"Stop lying out of your ass," Alex muttered.

Dean smiled.

"Anyways. Hill loved Lincoln."

"And Cal must have been a James Dean freak. He spent seventeen years of his life tracking down that guys car."

"Which was a dud," Alex reminded. She glanced up at Sam. He raised his eyebrow at Dean.

"So you're saying we've got two super famous, super pissed off ghosts killing their . . . super-fans?"

Sam shrugged. "That's what it looks like."

Dean looked down, shaking his head slightly. "Well, that is mucho locos."

Sam grinned. "Muy." When Dean looked up, he added. "It's 'muy.' Not mucho."

Dean waved him off. "Yeah, well, the big question is, what the hell are they doing here?"

"Yeah." Sam adjusted his seat in the chair. "Ghosts usually haunt the places they live. I mean, I, I get Abraham Lincoln at the White House--"

"Or James Dean at the race track but . . . what the hell are they doing in Canton?"

Sam shook his head. "No idea."

Alex slid her chair closer to Sam. He watched her, and she raised an eyebrow, waggling it seductively, as was her typical response to these situations.

Sam leaned away from her. "Don't do the eyebrow thing."

Alex laughed. "But Sammy," she teased. "How could I not?" She glanced over at Dean, who had gone back to his screen. She lowered her voice. "So, who exactly is James Dean?"

Dean heard. His head raised, eyes fixing on Alex. "You serious?" When Alex shrugged, he pulled his shoulders back. "Sit down, shut up, and listen here, cause I'm gonna tell you something you'll need to know."

"James Dean?" Alex drawled slowly, putting her elbows on the table. However, she couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. "He's uh, an actor or something. I'm assuming he died in a car crash."

"That's the gist," Sam told her.

"That's not 'the gist.' " Dean glared at his brother. "James Dean was one of the most iconic actors of the mid fifties. He starred in _Rebel Without a Cause?_ Come on. Disfranchised youth?" Seeing Alex's face, he shook his head. "He died when he crashed Little Bastard."

Sam nudged her with his elbow, and Alex glanced at his computer screen. Several pictures of James Dean were visible.

"I assume he's your role model for your dress code?" Alex asked dryly.

Dean huffed. "No. And there's nothing wrong with dressing like him."

Sam typed something, and Alex looked over at his screen. _Dean's definitely got a James Dean look._

Alex smiled, and pulled the laptop closer to her. _Tell me about it. Like I said. Lying out of his ass._

Sam chuckled.

"Hey hey hey. Stop passing notes in class," Dean grumbled. "God. Grow up."

Sam closed his laptop. "Whatever, Dean."

 

 **I** t was late that afternoon. Sam was still on his laptop, and Alex was on Dean's, an open can of Mountain Dew sitting next to her.

Dean was looking out the window, lost in his thoughts, a Coke in his own hands.

Suddenly Sam spoke. "You've got to be kidding me."

Dean turned. "What?" Alex looked up as well.

Sam just shook his head. Dean walked over, looking at the screen. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Alex whined.

"I was looking for connections between James Dean, Lincoln, and Canton." Sam spun the laptop.

Alex looked at the screen. "No way." A wax museum. With wax sculptures of James Dean and Lincoln. She looked up. "I'll take it that's our next stop."

Dean nodded. "Hell yeah."

"Can I come?" Alex almost begged. "I'm so bored just sitting here."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "We could go as journalists," Sam suggested.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, okay." He looked over at Alex. "Fine. Let's go."

 

 **T** hey were at the Canton Wax Museum within half an hour. They walked in, and Alex decided she didn't like the darkened rooms. She reached for her lower back, and her hand brushed against the grip of her gun. Not like that'd do anything against a ghost, but it was comforting. Sam strayed over to the set decorated like the oval office, where several wax presidents stood. Dean was frowning down at Gandhi. "Dude," he finally said, "he's short."

Sam glanced over at his brother, and Alex walked over to Dean. "Hey" Sam chastised, "Gandhi was a great man."

"Yeah, for a Smurf," both Alex and Dean said at the same time. They grinned at each other. "Aa-y," they both said.

Sam rolled his eyes.

Footsteps echoed down the stairs, and a short, bald man in a black leather jacket and tie appeared. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he apologized. Alex took him to be the owner. "This is the busiest time of the year."

All three grouped in front of the owner. Dean looked around at the empty room. "This is busy?"

"Well, not right now, but it's early."

Dean didn't buy it. "It's four thirty."

The owner ignored him. "So, what can I do for you?"

"Uh, well, we are writing an article for _Travel Magazine._ "

"Yeah, on how totally non-sucky wax museums are," Dean added. Alex barely hid a small smile. She turned her attention to a wax JFK behind her.

"That's fantastic. A little press, just what we need."

"Great. Well, we're interested in a few of your exhibits, especially Abraham Lincoln and, uh, James Dean?"

The owner nodded. "Two of our most popular displays."

Alex snorted. Right.

"Oh yeah? So they bring in a lot of visitors?" Sam exchanged glances with Dean.

"Yeah, we have our regulars."

"Were Hill and that other dude regulars?" Alex asked over her shoulder.

"Excuse me? Is she with you?"

"Unfortunately yes," Dean responded quite dryly.

"I love wax," Alex called over her shoulder, studying the wax Nixon.

"But, uh, were William Hill and Cal Hawkins regulars?"

"Yes, they were. I heard what happened to them. It's tragic, just tragic. Oh -- you -- that's not going in the article, is it?"

Sam shook his head. "No no no. Course not."

That appeased the owner.

"You know," Dean began, "I got to tell you. That, that Lincoln is so lifelike. I mean, I mean you can just imagine him moving around. You ever see anything like that?"

Alex coughed at his smoothness. More like chunkiness. Smooth as chunky peanut butter.

She couldn't see it, but she was sure the owner guy was frowning. "Uh . . . no."

"No?"

Sam took over. "Is there anything you can think of that would make your museum . . . unusual? You know, for the article?"

"Well, I'd say." Pride tinged the man's voice. "There isn't another place like us, not anywhere."

Alex turned back to see Dean raise an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, for one thing, that's Honest Abe's real hat."

Alex looked over at the wax Lincoln, suddenly very wary of it.

Both Winchesters looked surprised. "Is it?"

"Almost like his remains," Dean said, glancing at his brother. Alex blinked. Smooth, Dean.

"Uh . . . I guess?"

"You wouldn't happen to have any of James Dean's personal effects, would you?" asked Sam.

"Ooh, yeah. Got his keychain. Got a bunch of stuff. Gandhi's bifocals. FDR's iron lung. This." He tugged on the black leather jacket he was wearing.

Sam frowned. "And who did that belong to?"

"The Fonz. Seasons two through four!" The owner gave them a double thumbs up, a large grin splitting his face.

Sam blinked. "W-wow. That, that's really cool . . . ish."

"This? This is nothing. I've been working on a new collection of figures. Stuff that'll really wow the kids." He looked over at Alex. "You'll love it."

Alex just blinked. "I'm sure."

Dean looked confused. "The kids?"

"Yeah. Gen Y." Dean nodded, and the man continued. "Computer games, cell phones," he looked straight at Dean, "sexting." Dean raised an eyebrow. The owner scoffed. "They're just fads. I'm going to make wax museums hip again."

Dean nodded, and Sam gave a little chuckle. The owner gave them another double thumbs up, and Sam unconfidently returned it.

The owner turned to Alex. "Come on. I'll show you what I've been collecting."

"Uh, no thanks. I, uh, you're probably busy. Busiest time of year and all." Alex back up closer to Sam. "We'll, uh, finish looking around here and find you if we want a tour later, okay?"

The owner nodded. "Okay." He turned and left.

"Let's get out of here," Alex grumbled.

Sam grunted in agreement, and led them out of the wax museum. Alex slid into the backseat, carding her fingers through Dean's hair. Despite himself, he purred playfully, and Alex laughed. "Good kitty." She leaned over the front seat. "Dinner, right?"

Sam frowned, glancing at his watch. "It's barely five."

Alex pouted. "We didn't have lunch."

"She's got a point, Sammy." Dean started the car. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving." They drove off.

 

 **T** hey got back to the motel around 6:00. Being January, it was already dark. Dean disappeared into the motel room, and Alex followed. "Alex." Sam stopped her. "Stay here."

Alex walked back over to him. "Why?"

"We're going hunting tonight." Sam opened the trunk. "Help me load the shotguns."

Alex grumbled under breath, but politely did as he asked. She flicked down the lever, bending the gun in half. Then she reached into the trunk, curling her fingers around two salt casings. She slipped them into two barrels of the gun. Once the gun was fully loaded she bent the gun back into place. It clicked, and she tossed it back into trunk. By then, Sam was already on his second gun. He tossed it back into the trunk, turning to look at Alex. She looked up, not sure what he wanted.

Sam just closed the trunk. Then he wordlessly walked back into the motel room. Alex trailed after him. "Okay."

Dean was sitting at the table on the phone. "Yeah, Abraham Lincoln and James Dean, can you believe it? . . . Why so kill crazy? Ah, maybe the apocalypse has got them all hot and bothered." Dean chuckled slightly at his own joke, not hearing them enter. "Yeah, well, we all know who's fault that is . . . Yeah, well it's true."

Alex looked up at Sam, who's face grew tight. But then, it was gone. He pushed the door shut, and Alex stepped past him, brushing his hand with her fingers in sympathy before continuing in. Sam pushed past her and sat down at the table

"I'll call you later. Bye." Dean hung up, turning to look at them. "Hey. You guys looked like you had fun."

Alex blushed slightly, sitting down next to Sam. "Yeah. Wonderful." She knew she was blushing more, but she played along. "Isn't that right Sammy? Good thing it's winter, because things got pretty hot."

She was rewarded by Sam's blush. "God, you guys are so immature." He stalked over to the bed. Dean stretched his fist towards Alex, and she bumped it with her own.

"So you got the trunk packed?"

Sam grunted. "Yeah, the trunk's packed. Who was on the phone?"

"Bobby."

"And . . ?"

Dean shook his head. "And nothing."

"And we're just gonna pretend I didn't hear what I just heard."

"Pretend or don't pretend." Dean shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat."

"This was suppose to be a fresh start, Dean."

"Well, this is as fresh as it gets." Dean glanced at his watch.

Sam walked into the bathroom, and Alex turned to Dean.

"What?" Dean ignored her.

"Really?"

Dean frowned. "It's true. He started the apocalypse."

"So? He didn't know any better than we did."

"He was drinking the blood of a demon," Dean snapped. "Not to mention he was fucking her."

"So? He made some bad choices. Like all of us. Hell, if you're going to blame anyone blame me. I probably could have stopped the apocalypse."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Don't think I don't blame you. But that dick of an angel took you before you could say anything."

"Before I could say anything?" Alex actually laughed. A harsh laugh. "I had almost a year and a half to tell you. But I didn't. Dean, Sam's your brother. Yeah, he messed up. We all did. Him, me, you. Now maybe instead of holding a fucking grudge, you could grow up and realize that working together is the only way we're gonna stop this thing." She lowered her voice. "We're going to stop it. And Sam's gonna help."

The bathroom door opened, and Sam stepped out. Alex fell into silence, slumping against her chair. Dean glared at her before standing up. "Let's go."

"Museum doesn't close for another two hours."

"Then I'm going to get beer." Dean grabbed his jacket and stalked away.

Sam waited until Dean had gone before turning to Alex. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Alex smiled. "It's nothing," she promised. "Dean's just being a total dick. If he does it again, I'll talk to him."

Sam smiled as well. "It's not like I'm being bullied."

"Doesn't mean I ain't gonna stick up for you." Alex paused. "Oh my God, I sounded like Bobby." She put her head in her hands.

Sam chuckled.

 

At nine, all three piled into the car and drove to the wax museum. Dean parked the car in the far corner of the parking lot, taking a long sip of his beer. "Okay. We wait till the Fonz is out of the way." He vaguely motioned to the white Buick that was sitting in the parking lot. "Then in and out, okay? Shouldn't be to hard."

Alex leaned against the backseat, fingering her shotgun mindlessly. Her hand went to her jacket pocket, feeling the extra rounds. She wasn't wearing her normal hunting clothes, as those were typically reserved for the more bloodier cases. Ghosts meant no blood. Which meant clean clothes.

The start of an engine made her look up. The Buick roared to life before peeling out into the street. Dean waited until it disappeared down the street before getting out of the car. Sam did the same, and, while Dean circled around to the trunk, Sam hurried off towards the building. Alex followed Dean, pulling another shotgun out of the trunk. Then they walked to the building.

Sam reappeared, pocketing a pair of wire cutters. "Simple security system," he informed them. "Took care of it." He knelt down, then hesitated. He held out his lock picking kit to Alex. "Give it a shot."

Alex hesitated as well, but knelt down beside him. "You sure?" she asked quietly.

"We have plenty of time."

Alex took the tools, carefully inserting the torque and rake into the lock. It took her almost four minutes of deep concentration, but the lock did click, and the door swung open. Alex stood up, giving Sam back his tools. He placed a hand on her shoulder in brief congratulations before following his brother into the building. Alex did the same.

They walked down the hallway and turned down the stairs. Dean stopped beside Lincoln. Alex turned when he cleared his voice. "Check it out." He had placed Abe Lincoln's hat on his head. Then he lowered his voice to imitated Lincoln. "Four score and seven years ago, I had a funny hat."

Alex laughed, and Dean shot her a smile.

"Dean." Sam just sighed. He had fetched a trash can, placing it on the floor.

Dean just frowned. "What? We can't have any fun with this?" He took off the hat, tossing it into the trash can.

"Let's just torch the objects, torch the ghosts, and get outta here, okay?"

"I'll go get East of Eden's keychain." Dean left the room. Alex followed him. They got all the way down to the James Dean exhibit before they heard the sound of a door slam. Alex immediately froze. "Sam?" she called.

No answer. She and Dean exchanged glances before they took off down the hall, James Dean forgotten. They turned down the hall and ran. The double door which they had stepped through were closed. Alex threw her weight against it, but it didn't open. "Sam?" she yelled.

Scuffling was heard in the other room, and Dean pushed on the door. It didn't budge. Finally, with one last push from the both of them, it swung open, and the two hunters stumbled through. Sam was struggling with a man on his back. Gandhi. Alex watched in partial amazement.

"Dean!" Sam yelled.

Dean slid to a stop. "Is that Gandhi?"

"Yeah!"

"Dude. He's squirrelly!"

"Get the--" Sam was cut off as Gandhi elbowed him in the chest. Sam gasped, motioning to the wax figure on his back with a shake of his head.

Dean understood, and rushed past Alex, who followed, cursing herself for just standing. She dropped her shotgun, knowing she couldn't get a clear shot with Gandhi hanging onto Sam like that.

"Get it!" Sam choked out.

Dean stopped by his brother, confused. "Get the what?"

"Glasses!" Sam clawed at the figure around his neck, gasping for air. Dean grabbed the glasses off of the Gandhi. Alex, having nothing else to do, locked her arms around Gandhi, and tried to pull him off.

Meanwhile, Dean threw the glasses into the wastebasket. Alex heard the clatter as they fell in, the splash of lighter fluid, followed by the ever familiar hiss of a match and the whoosh of flames. Gandhi disappeared in her grasp, and she fell backwards. Sam fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

Dean turned. "You couldn't have been a fan of someone cooler?"

Sam started at his brother blankly.

Dean continued. "Really? Gandhi?"

Alex stood up, helping Sam to his feet, which was really mostly him doing the work. "Shut up," Sam grumbled. "Just, get the key chain, okay?"

Dean did as he asked.

 

 **T** hey returned to the Nite Owl Motel half an hour later. Dean stayed up for a beer, but Sam and Alex went to bed. Being that it was cold, Alex climbed into bed next to Sam. Sam shifted awkwardly, but Alex was stubborn. "Stop moving," she grumbled, putting an arm around his chest to keep him still.

"Alex. Stop manhandling Sam."

"He won't stay still!" Alex protested. "And I'm cold."

Dean laughed, and Sam kicked her away. "Get back to your own bed."

"Get back to your own bed," Alex mimicked in a high pitched voice, but did as he asked. She crawled under the cold sheets, curling up. "You're a bitch, Sammy."

"Language," Dean snapped.

"You guys don't set a very good example." Alex wiggled deeper into the mattress, yawning. "Night."

The brothers grunted in response, and Alex fell asleep.

 

 **S** he awoke when it was still dark out. Dean was sitting at the table, a few empty bottles of beer sitting around him. She sat up and approached. "Hey Dean."

Dean looked up at her. "Huh? Oh. Hey."

"You doing okay?" Alex sat down in the chair across from him. "You should probably come to bed."

Dean shook his head. "Nah. Not tired."

"Okay. You want to talk?"

"Not really."

Alex crossed her arms, stifling a yawn. "What's this about? Is it Sam?"

Dean took another long swig of his beer. "I, I just don't know if I can trust him," he finally admitted, the alcohol loosening his tongue.

"He messed up, Dean. So did all of us." Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Alex continued. "You broke the first seal, he broke the last, I did squat to stop any of it. At least the two of you didn't know what you were doing."

Dean put his head in his hands. "You tried," he muttered.

Alex frowned. "Why are you so ready to forgive me, but not Sam?"

Dean looked up. "I, I don't know. You, you're you. But Sam, I should be able to trust him completely, you know? He's the smart one. He shouldn't do these things."

"He's a fucking human, Dean. Give him a break."

"He fucked a demon!"

"And you fucked a dick with wings."

Dean shook his head. "First, she was human at the time. So there."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

"Not tired."

Alex crossed her arms. "Dean. Bed now. You need to sleep if we're gonna drive tomorrow."

Dean grumbled under his breath, but he followed Alex over to the beds. He collapsed next to Sam, and soon was asleep. Alex lay down in her bed, staring at the ceiling. It was still really cold, so she got up. Then she lay down between Sam and Dean, comforted by their presence. It wasn't long before all three were asleep.

 

 **T** he next morning, Alex was the last to wake up. Something landed beside her on the bed, and she jumped, suddenly wide awake. "--strange the way Gandhi just vanished?" Sam glanced over at Alex as she sat up. He threw something into his backpack which was now lying at Alex's feet.

"Strange how?" Dean also spared Alex a glance. "Pack up. We're leaving."

"Think about it. No screaming, no big flame-out, I mean, that isn't the way ghosts normally go."

"He's got a point," Alex put in, rubbing her eyes. "It was pretty weird."

Dan shrugged. "I torched him, he vanished."

"Yeah, but I . . ." Sam let out a long sigh. "Also, I feel like he was . . . trying to take a bite out of me."

Alex got out of bed, barely holding back a cough of amusement. "Zombie Gandhi?" she joked, reaching for her duffle bag on the floor. "Sounds pleasant. I don't do zombies, by the way."

"A bite?" Dean scoffed.

"Yeah, like he was hungry. But the thing is, Gandhi -- the real Gandhi -- he was a --" Sam hesitated.

"A what?" Dean persisted. "Spit it out."

"He was a fruitarian."

Dean stared at his brother, then he laughed. "Let me get this straight. You're ultimate hero was not only a  
short man in diapers, but he was also a fruitarian?"

Sam frowned. "That's not the point."

"That is good," Dean continued. "That is -- even for you, that is good."

"Look. I'm just saying, I'm not so sure this thing is over."

Dean shrugged, gesturing with his whole arms. "It was a ghost. It was a weirdly super-charged fruitarian ghost, but it was still a ghost. Now let's go." He reached down and picked up his bag.

"So first you drag me into this town, and now you drag me back out." Sam squared his jaw, obviously angry at his brother, but not wanting to let it show.

"You ain't the one steering this boat. Let's go, chop chop." Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and stalked towards the door. Alex scrambled out of bed, not even dressed.

Sam didn't move. "You know, this isn't gonna work."

Dean stopped and turned, slightly confused. His voice was devoid of emotion. "What isn't?"

"Us. You, me, together. I -- I thought it could ,but it can't."

Alex grabbed her duffle bag and hurried into the bathroom. She kept near the door, though, wanting to hear the conversation.

"You're the one that wanted back in, chief," Dean was saying.

"And you're the one who called me back in."

"I still think we got some trust building to do."

"How long am I gonna be on double-secret probation?" Alex heard the thunk of Sam's backpack hitting the ground. She quickly pulled on her jeans, followed by a black shirt, and stepped back out into the room.

"Until I say so." Dean was still standing at the other end of the motel, mouth twisted into a small frown.

Sam let out a quiet breath. "Look. I know what I did. What I've done. And I am trying to climb out of that hole, I am, but you're not making it any easier."

"So what am I suppose to do?" Dean countered. "Just let you off the hook?"

Alex tossed her bag on the bed, crossing her arms. "Dean," she snapped. "We've talked about this."

"Shut up."

Alex huffed angrily.

"You can think whatever you want. I deserve it, and worse."

"Sam!" Alex interrupted, twisting her head to glare at him.

Don't try and defend me," Sam hissed. "I deserve this. Hell, you guys can never punish me more than I'm punishing myself. The point is, if we're gonna be a team, if has to be a two way street."

"So we just go back to the way it was before?"

"No, because we were never that way before. Before didn't work."

Dean's frown deepened.

"How do you think we got here?" Sam continued, voice raising.

"In a car?" Alex offered quietly, trying to disperse the tension in the room. It didn't work, and she sank onto the bed, trying to disappear.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Dean, one of the reasons I went off with Ruby . . . was to get away from you."

Dean froze. "What?"

"It made me feel strong. Like I wasn't your kid brother."

"Are you saying this is my fault?"

Alex crawled up to the head of the bed, worrying that this was going to turn into not just a verbal fight, but a physical one too.

Dean took a step towards Sam, who defiantly stood his ground. "No, it's my fault. All I'm saying is that, if we're gonna do this, we have to do it different. We can't just fall into the same rut."

Dean shook his head. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, anger biting at his voice.

"You're gonna have to let me grow up, for starters."

Dean shook his head again, and opened his mouth to rebuke his brother. Hs cell phone rang, and Alex let out a breath of relief. Dean answered. "Yeah?" He listened, then looked over at Sam before immediately diverting his gaze. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." He hung up. "I guess you were right about this not being over."

"What happened?" Sam's eyes narrowed, argument forgotten.

"Sheriff Carnegie. He didn't say much, but it looks like something else happened." Dean tossed his bag onto the nearest bed. "He wants us down there ASAP."

Sam nodded, then disappeared into the bathroom, grabbing his bag on the way.

Alex watched. "Can I come?" she asked. "I-I mean . . ."

"Nope." Dean pulled off his shirt and tossed it into his bag. "You know the rules.When it me and Sam, it's just me and Sam. Besides, you know how hard it is to pass you off as FBI."

"You pass me off as a 'specialist' easily enough," Alex rebutted.

"Yeah, well, we try not to make a habit of it." Dean pulled out his white oxford, buttoning it over his undershirt. Then he shed his jeans.

Alex ignored it, huffing. "I haven't done a single thing this case!" she protested.

"You went to the museum and watched Sam get wailed on by Gandhi," Dean suggested.

"Yeah, well, that didn't do anything."

"Just stay here." Dean easily tied his tie and pulled on his jacket. "Ready, Sammy?"

Sam emerged from the bathroom, nodding curtly.

"We'll be back soon." Dean quickly put on his shoes, grabbed the car keys, and left the motel. Sam followed, and Alex fell back on the bed.

 

 **T** hey didn't come back until the late afternoon. Alex was sitting on the bed on Sam's laptop, the tv on in the background. She was reading Supernatural fanfiction -- poorly written fanfiction for that matter -- and when Sam and Dean stepped through the door, she hurriedly closed the tab. "Hey."

"Uh-huh." Sam stalked over to her and swiped his laptop away.

Alex groaned in disappointment, turning to Dean. "So? What happened?"

"We didn't kill it, that's what." Dean grabbed a beer out of the fridge. "Paris Hilton took a teen."

"Paris Hilton?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "I don't think she's dead."

"She's not."

"So it's not a ghost."

"Nope. Sam also found something in the vics' stomach. Seeds or something."

"More importantly, there was major blood loss. More than normal for those types of injuries."

"So . . . something's feeding?"

"Bingo."

"So, either a vampire's getting creative, or we're dealing with a pagan god."

"That's what we're thinking." Sam dropped two round things on the table. "And whatever it is, it's got something to do with these."

Alex got up and approached the table, picking up the seeds. "Wow. Never seen anything like this before."

"Yeah, me neither." Sam had up a webpage about local seeds.

"Sam. That's gonna take forever."

"Then sit down and help."

Alex grumbled, but opened Dean's laptop. "Thanks for lunch, by the way. Not like I need to eat."

Dean snorted. "What? You could have gotten something yourself."

"If it makes you feel any better, we didn't eat either."

"Barely."

 

 **T** hey worked for a while. Dean brought back supper, and as the sun set, Alex gave up, and Dean took his laptop back. Alex meandered over to the bed, lying down next to the hunter.

It was only a few minutes later when, "Yahtzee."

"What?" Dean looked up.

"The seeds aren't from around here. In fact, they're not from any tree or plant in the country."

Alex raised herself on her elbows. "Yeah. We already got that hashed out."

"So where are they from?"

"Eastern Europe. From a forest in the Balkans, which is not even there anymore. It was chopped down, like, thirty years ago."

"So?"

"So, local legend has it that the forest was guarded by a pagan good whose name was Leshi. Um, a mischievous god, could take on infinite forms --"

"And let me guess. He liked to much on his fans."

Sam let out a small chuckle. "Yep. Could be appeased only with the blood from his worshippers. It would drain 'em, then stuff their stomachs with the seeds."

"That's kind of gross," Alex put in.

Dean got up and walked over to Sam. "So how's he doing it? What, he touches James Dean's keychain and then morphs into James Dean?"

Sam shrugged, leaning back to look up at his brother. "Hm. It's as good a guess as any."

"Yeah, well, whatever. How do we kill him?"

"Says here to chop off his head with an iron axe.”

Alex got up and walked over to them. "Sounds like fun."

Dean nodded. "All right. Let's go gank ourselves a Paris Hilton." He walked back to his bag, digging through it. “We’ve got an iron axe in the trunk, don’t we?”

“Uh, I think so. Probably.” Sam closed his laptop, standing up. “We’re going tonight?”

“Hell yeah. That kid could still be alive.” Dean pulled out a jacket with faint bloodstains. “Why? You got plans?”

“No.” Sam squared his jaw like he as going to argue, but then gave up. “Okay. We’ll leave around what? Ten?”

Dean looked at the clock. It was six-thirty. “We could leave now,” he suggested.

“Can we get something to eat?” Alex got up and walked closer to the two brothers.

“You had dinner an hour ago.”

“I didn’t have lunch. Besides, we’ve got like, what, three hours to kill? Why not kill it with food?”

Sam shrugged, looking over at Dean. Dean gave in. “You know what? Fine. Fine.” He dropped his jacket back on his bag. “What do you want?”

“There’s a McDonalds down the street.”

Sam frowned. “You just want their fries.”

“Hell yeah I want their fries.” Alex reached for Sam’s thick grey sweatshirt. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

 

 **T** hree hours and a large McDonald’s fries later, Alex was sitting in the back of the Impala, head leaning against the cold window. “So, Leshi. Who would name their kid Leshi?”

“I don’t think —“

“Well, someone had to name him that.” Alex leaned over the front seat, looking at Sam. “Pretty sure he was created.”

“By who?” Dean scoffed. “God?”

“He did create everything.” Alex rested her crossed arms on the seat, then rested her head on her arms. “Or maybe he created something that created the pagan gods.”

“I don’t think God’s everything you think he is.”

Alex shrugged. “I think he is. Although,” she added with a sigh, “I’m starting to think that the reason there’s two universes is that God gave up on this one and moved on to the other.”

Sam let out a scoffing noise. “I don’t think so.”

“It’d explain the whole ‘absent God’ thing. And I’d leave too if I had to put up with those archangels.” She let out another long breath. “I don’t know.”

They fell back into silence.

 

 **T** hey arrived at the Canton Wax Museum a little after ten. Dean turned off the headlights, and the car grew dark. A second later, the purr of the engine was abruptly cut off, and Sam and Dean got out of the car. Alex followed, slamming the door. The two Winchesters were already at the trunk. Sam pulled out the axe, weighing it in his large hands.

Dean tossed her a flashlights. “Heads up.”

Alex caught it less then gracefully, barely snagging it before it hit the ground. “Thanks for the warning,” she grumbled.

Dean just smirked. He handed a flashlight to Sam before taking one for himself. Then he checked his gun before putting it in his jeans. “Ready?”

Sam nodded, and Dean closed the trunk, pocketing the keys. “Give me the axe,” he whispered.

“Why do you get to hold the axe?” Sam whispered back.

“Because I said so.” Dean pulled the weapon away from his brother, hurrying off towards the museum. Sam rolled his eyes, following with a huff. He quickly surpassed his brother and reached the door, kneeling down to pick the lock. It opened within seconds.

“Come on.” Sam pushed the door open, disappearing into the darkness inside. Dean followed, and Alex trailed after him, making sure to close the door behind them.

She followed them down the stairs, her flashlight’s beam dancing over the wax sculptures. “This is creepier in the dark,” she mumbled to herself, making sure not to lose sight of the two Winchesters. They passed Gandhi, which Alex made sure to skirt around, and eventually reached a hall.

With a single look, the two brothers split up, leaving Alex standing in the hall alone. “What?” she whispered. With a shrug, she followed Dean. “Dean. Wait up.”

Dean turned, flashlight almost blinding her. “Keep your voice down.”

“Sorry.” Alex turned to examine a wax sculpture of Thomas Edison. “These are worse than manikins,” she pointed out casually. A harsh ‘shh’ from Dean had her closing her mouth.

A whistle came from another room. Dean immediately perked up, hurrying out of the room. Alex followed to find Sam Winchester standing in front of a door. “Closed for maintenance,” one sign read.

“CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS.” The second clearly read, “DANGER DO NOT ENTER.”

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, then Dean broke the latch with the axe. Sam opened the door, pushing through the layers of plastic hanging from the ceiling. Alex followed, recognizing the plastic as the type used during renovations. Maybe the sign was right and that’s all this was.

Or maybe not. She stepped out into a large room. Tree trunks stretched upwards, branches and leaves reaching for the high ceiling. A path led through them, stopping at the foot of a large white house. On the front porch stood a wax man in a suit. To its left, tied to a tree, was a young girl. Definitely not wax.

“Hey.” Sam hurried over to her, checking her pulse worriedly.

“She alive?” Dean stepped through the plastic, brushing past Alex.

“Just barely.”

Suddenly, the axe flew out of Dean’s hands, embedding itself into a tree. Alex watched it go, bewildered. She turned back to see another person in the room. Paris Hilton — err, Leshi. Leshi that looks like Paris Hilton. She appeared in front of Dean, grinning. Then she punched Dean in the face once, twice, three times, sending him to the ground. Sam launched himself at her, and Alex blinked, freezing.

Then she ran across the path, hands closing around the wooden handle of the axe. She heard Sam hit the ground, and she tugged, bracing her foot against the tree. Then she’s flying backwards. Her head hit the tree, and her vision swam. Alex took a deep breath, standing up. She vaguely saw Dean laying on the ground, and she took one step forward. Then something connected with her jaw. Then everything went black.

 

 **A** lex raised her head, letting out a low groan. The first thing she knew was that she was standing up. The next thing she knew was that she was tied. She tried to free her hands, but they were bound tight. She opened her eyes, memories coming back. She was with Sam and Dean. On a hunt. Leshi. She looked around. To her left, Sam was stirring. To her right, Dean was already awake.

In front of them, on a stump, sat Paris Hilton. Err, Leshi. Alex still wasn’t use to this. On the stump next to her lay a wide array of knives. She was filing her nails with one of the larger ones, small sparks jumping from the knife with each stroke.

Leshi looked up. “Oh. I’m so glad you’re awake for this. This is going to be huge.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance past her. Alex’s eyes danced between the two of them, searching for eye contact, but they ignored her.

“Super,” Dean finally said, returning his attention to the god. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“I mean, I’ve been stuffing myself with fast food lately.” Leshi passed the knife over her fingernails again. “So it’s nice to do the ritual right. Prepare a nice, slow dinner.”

“Just like the good old days, huh?” Sam tested his bonds futilely.

“You have no idea.” Leshi looked up at Sam. “People adored me. They use to throw themselves at me with smiles on their faces.”

“Yeah, I guess these days no one gives a flying crap about some backwoods forest god, huh?”

Alex let out a huff of laughter, and the pagan god stopped what she was doing, throwing Dean a threatening glare. “No. Not since they cut down my forest and built a Yugo Plant.”

“March of Progress, sister.”

Leshi returned to sharpening her nails. “For years now, I’ve been wandering. Hungry. Scared. Scrounging for scraps. So not sexy.”

Alex scoffed, casting an glance at Dean. He ignored her.

“But then, the best thing happened.” Leshi put down the knife, standing up. “Someone tripped the apocalypse. And I thought, what the hell, I’m tired of watching what I eat. I wanna pig out. So I found this little place. It’s awesome. Adoring fans stroll right through the doors.”

“Bet it doesn’t feel the same.” Alex finally spoke, head raised defiantly. “After all, they’re not your fans.”

“So? They worship Lincoln, Gandhi, Hilton . . . whatever. I’ll take what I can get.”

“You know, I got to tell you. You’re not the fist god we’ve met but you are . . . the nuttiest.” Dean moved his wrists up and down the tree, trying to cut the ropes. The action remained unnoticed by the god.

“No. You, you people are the crazy ones. You use to worship gods. But this?” Leshi motioned to her Paris Hilton form. “ _This_ is passes for idolatry? Celebrities?” She let out a scoffing huff. “What have they got besides small dogs and spray tans?”

Alex looked over at Dean. “She’s got a point,” she admitted.

“Thank you.” Leshi took a step towards Alex. “You use to have old time religion. Now you have _Us Weekly._ ”

“I don’t know. I’m more of a _Penthouse Forum_ man myself.” He clicked his tongue, winking at the god. Alex rolled her eyes.

“Maybe. But you still have a lot of yummy meat on those bones.” Leshi stepped back slightly, examining all three of them. “The choice just becomes, who do I eat first?”

“Not me.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “Not looking like that, anyways. Sorry. Not a Paris Hilton fan.”

“No, but you’ve got your own idols.” Leshi’s eyes swept between Sam and Dean. “The only question becomes, which of them do I chose?”

“Listen here, you bitch. If you’re gonna eat anyone, you better start with me.”

Leshi barely spared Dean a look. “You see, I can totally read your mind,” she told Alex. “And boy is it dark in there.”

Alex glared up at her, fists tightening. “If you’re going to kill me, kill me,” she spat. “Don’t just stand around and talk.”

Leshi ignored her words, eyes still focused on the young girl. “And an angel?” she finally said, raising her eyebrows. “How cute.” She turned to Dean. “Of course, I could just eat you,” she told him. “I know who your hero is. Your daddy, am I right?” She smirked when Dean didn’t reply, turning her back to walk over to the axe still embedded in the tree. Dean began furiously working on the ropes, and Alex quickly did the same. They didn’t seem to be loosening.

Dean, however, got free. He charged across the room and tackled Leshi to the ground. Alex watched helplessly as the struggled. Next to her, Sam pulled desperately at his bonds as Leshi rolled her and Dean over, managing to kneel on top of him. She punched him in the face, then again.

Sam broke free. He made it to the axe in four strides, yanking it out of the tree. Alex pulled as hard as she could, but still couldn’t get free. “Dammit!” she snarled, struggling.

Dean shoved the god off of him, rolling away as Sam swung the axe downwards, burying the blade in the god's head. Blood sprayed him in the face, and he raised the axe again and again.

Five blows. Five blows with the axe before Leshi’s head rolled free. Sam dropped the axe, breathing heavily. Blood splatters covered his face, and he looked around, his gaze finding his brother, who was still on the floor. He grinned.

Dean held up a finger. “Not a word.”

“Dude. You just got whaled on by Paris Hilton!”

Dean tried to sit. “Shut up.” He laid back down, grunting in pain as he touched his head.

“I mean —”

“I said shut up.” Dean closed his eyes. “At least I managed to get free.”

“Speaking of such,” Alex said crossly. “Get your ass over here and untie me.”

Sam grinned, walking lazily over to her. “Dean’s right. At least he got free.”

“Shut up.” Alex waited impatiently as he untied her. “He’s like twice as strong as me.” The rope fell to the ground, and she rubbed her wrists. “I loosened it,” she defended.

“Sure.” Sam walked back over to his brother. “Come on. Let’s burn the bitch and get out of here.”

Dean groaned again. “You do it. I’m gonna take a nap.”

Sam huffed in amusement. “We’re in the middle of a job.”

“No, you just killed the job.” Dean reluctantly sat up, wincing. “Fine.”

“Alex. Go get the tarp in the trunk.”

Alex nodded slowly. “Sure.” She knelt down besides Dean. “Keys?” Dean handed them to her, and she walked out of the room. Once she was out of sight, however, she broke into a run, tearing up the stairs. She propped the door open with a box before hurrying out to the car.

She propped open the trunk and stuffed the large blue and brown tarp under her arm before closing it again. Then she returned to the building.

 

 **S** am had cleaned off the axe. “Thanks.” He took the tarp, laid it out, then rolled the body onto it. “Can you grab the head for me?”

Alex bit her lip. “Yeah.” She picked up Leshi’s head, holding it up to look into it’s eyes. “Ugh. So not sexy.”

Dean laughed from where he was leaning against a tree. Alex smiled ,then tossed the head onto the tarp. “She’s going in the trunk, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I don’t want her next to me.” Alex helped Sam rolled the body up.

Dean pulled himself to his feet. “You clean up this, and we’ll take the body out to the car.”

“Yep.” Alex handed him the keys, and watched as the Winchesters made their way off. She looked down at the blood stain on the gravel path. “Great.” She muttered.

 

 **I** t took a good ten minutes, but she managed to clean it all up. She eventually ended up stuffing the bloodied rocks under the porch, and replaced them with the gravel in the bags against the far wall. Then she picked up the axe and put it over her shoulder. She picked up the two flashlights, and, with one glance back at the girl, still tied to the tree, made her way after the Winchesters.

They met on the stairs. “What about the girl?” Alex asked as she handed the axe to Sam.

“We’ll call Sheriff Carnegie as soon as we clear out.” Sam led them out of the museum.

 

 **A** s soon as they were on the road, Sam did as he promised. Dean drove them out of town, where they pulled off of the road near a largely wooded area. “Good place to bury a forest god,” Alex said quietly.

Sam nodded, slightly solemn. “Yeah.”

“Well, get digging.” Dean dropped two shovels by her feet.

“Dean. The ground is frozen. There’s two inches of snow.”

“Go.”

Alex grumbled, picking up the shovel.

“Just clear away the snow,” Sam said. “We’ll just burn her.”

“We should give her some sort of a grave. If anything it’ll keep her hidden for a while.”

Sam frowned, then said, “Fine.” He started scraping at the solid ground.

 

 **T** hey stopped an hour later. Dean tossed the body into the two foot grave, then handed Sam the lighter fluid. Within a minute, the blaze of a fire warmed the air. Alex held out her hands, shifting closer to the grave. It was warm.

 

 **A** s the flames died, Dean started kicking the dirt back into the grave. “Let’s get back to the motel,” he grumbled. “I’ve had enough for the night.”

Sam grunted in agreement, picking up a shovel to help. It wasn’t long before the burned bones were covered. As Sam rolled up the tarp, Alex kicked snow around, trying to cover up the obvious evidence of a grave.

Dean tapped her on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

They did.

 

 **T** hey slept long into the morning. Alex was awaken by Dean, who was laying next to her. He rolled onto his stomach, and Alex sat up, looking at the clock. It was nearly ten. Sam was gone, his bed was made. Dean stirred. “Where’s Sam?” he mumbled.

“Dunno.” As Alex spoke, Sam stepped through the door, already dressed. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Sam met her gaze calmly. “How’d you sleep?""

“Good.” Alex got up. “Breakfast?”

“We’ll get some on the road.” Dean got up as well, still in the clothes from last night. He pulled off his bloodstained jacket, putting on a new one. His phone rang, and he stared at it for a second before answering. “Get packed.”

Alex already was. She grabbed her bag and hurried into the bathroom where she changed. Then she threw on her shoes and went out to the car. Alex threw her bag into the trunk, leaning against it, waiting. The air was warm, at least 30 degrees.

Sam and Dean stepped out a minute later, crossing the parking lot to reach the Impala. “Uh-huh,” Dean was saying. “Alright. Thank you.” He hung up. “Sheriff Carnegie,” he told Sam. “Danielle’s gonna be alright. She’s sworn off _The Simple Life_ , but other than that—”

“Glad she’s okay.”

“Sheriff’s put out an APB on Paris Hilton.” Dean chuckled. “That ought to be good.” He unlocked the trunk, and both he and Sam threw their bags into the trunk. He looked up at his brother. “Hey, listen. I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday. About keeping too tight a leash on you.”

Sam looked at him, confused, but ready for a fight.

Dean continued. “Hell, maybe you’re right. I mean, look, I’m not Mister Innocent in this whole thing either, you know. I broke the first seal.”

“You didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well, neither did you.” When Sam looked down, Dean added, “I’m not saying demon blood was a great way to go, but you did kill Lilith.”

“And started the Apocalypse.”

“Which neither of us saw coming.” Dean looked over at Alex for support. “I mean, who’d have thought killing Lilith would’ve been a bad thing?” He paused, letting out a breath. “The point is, I was so busy watching your every move that I didn’t see what it was actually doing to you.” He paused again. “So, for that, I’m sorry.”

Sam nodded. “Thanks.”

Dean closed the trunk, pulling out the keys. “So where do we go from here?”

“The way I see it, we got one shot at surviving this.”

Alex frowned. “I don’t like things with only one shot,” she pointed out. “So it better be good.”

Dean agreed. “Let’s here it.”

“Maybe I am on deck for the devil, maybe same for you and Michael, maybe there’s no changing that. But we can stop writing our hands over it. We gotta just grab whatever’s in front of us, kick its ass, and go down fighting.”

Alex shrugged. “Works for me.”

Sam glanced over at Alex, but his gaze returned to Dean. “Okay. But we gonna have to do this on the same level.”

Dean nodded, grinning. “You got it.” He walked over to the drivers seat. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Let’s go someplace warm.” Alex hopped into the backseat.

Sam started to walk to his side of the car, but Dean stopped him with a, “Hey.” He held out the keys. “You want to drive?”

Sam looked at the keys. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I could, uh . . . I could use a nap.”

Sam smiled, taking the keys. Dean slid over to the passenger side, and Sam got behind the wheel. Alex leaned forward. “You sure this is safe?” she whispered to Dean.

“Course.” Dean pushed her away, leaning his head back, eyes closed. “Go read or something.”

Alex huffed, falling back on her seat. The car started, and Sam drove them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. After reading this chapter last night, I realized that there was _a lot_ of flirting with Sam.


	33. I Believe the Children are our Future

**January 8th, 2010**

**I** t was the next day. Alex was sitting in a diner, munching on a bag of chips. Sam sat across from her, on his laptop, and Dean was out getting gas.

“Hey hey hey.” Sam suddenly leaned in, interested.

Alex looked up, sliding a potato chip into her mouth. “Hm?”

“I may have found us a case. Alliance, Nebraska. The police report says something clawed through a girl’s skull.”

“Ooh. Heart missing?”

“Doesn’t say. No details have been released.” Sam eyes rolled upwards in thought. “Nebraska’s only the next state over. Might be worth checking into.”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. Clear it with Dean, and we can leave now.”

Sam looked up, obviously confused to see her instead of Dean. Then he blinked. “O-Oh yeah. Sorry. I’m use to having these conversations—”

“With Dean. I get it." Alex held out the bag. “Chip?”

“Wow. I’m gone for ten minutes and you’re already offering him my food.” Dean slid into the booth next to Sam, grabbing the bag for himself.

“Uh, first off, you’ve been gone for almost half an hour. Secondly, those are my chips.” Alex took the bag back. “What took you so long? I thought you were getting gas.”

“Got distracted. Figured you and Sam could use a little more alone time.” Dean reached for the bag, but Alex pulled it away.

“Oh yeah. We had a good talk. All about you, actually.” Alex stuffed a chip in her mouth.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I found a case.” He turned his laptop so Dean could see. “Police say that something clawed through a teen’s skull. Sounded like our kind of thing.”

Dean nodded. “Alliance, Nebraska. That’s only half an hour out.” He clapped Sam on the back. “Good going. Let’s go.”

 

 **S** am and Dean stopped at a gas station to change into their suits. “If we’re going to a morgue, why can’t I go?” Alex leaned over the seat, pouting. “Please? Besides, it’s not like Bobby’s going anywhere. They can just call him if they need me.”

“Fine. Give him a call. If he says yes, then fine.”

“Yes!” Alex fell back in the seat, pulling out her phone.

She dialed Bobby’s number, and it rang. Then it rang again. Then Bobby answered. “What do you want?”

“Bobby! Hey. How are you doing?”

“Good.”

“So, me and the Winchesters are checking out a case in Alliance. In Nebraska.”

“I know where Alliance is.”

“Okay. Well, we’re going to see a body, and I wanted to go—”

“So you need me to back you up when they realize you’re obviously not FBI.”

“Bobby. Please? Something scratched a girl’s brain out. That’s pretty interesting. Please?”

“Fine. Whatever. Ain’t like I’m busy over here.”

“Thanks!” Alex hung up, then got out of the car. She grabbed her bag, and hurried in to the bathroom.

 

**Alliance, Nebraska**

**T** en minutes later they were standing in the Alliance Morgue. Sam and Dean held up their FBI badges. “Agents Page and Plant, FBI.”

“Gentlemen.” They were standing in front of a doctor. He looked over at Alex. “Who is she?”

Alex held up her own badge. “Agent Banner. FBI. I’m a specialist.”

“A specialist. A little young, aren’t you?”

“I assure you, I met every qualification the FBI has in place.” Alex held the doctor’s gaze until he looked away. _Yes._

“So what brings you by?”

Sam cleared his throat. “We need to see Amber Freer’s body.”

“Really? What for?”

Dean put his badge away. “The police report said something clawed through her skull?”

“You didn’t read the autopsy report that I sent out this morning?”

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. “W-We, uh, had serve issues,” Sam stuttered.

The doctor shrugged, but walked away. The three hunters followed, stopping when he opened the morgue refrigerator and pulled out the metal slab. He pulled back the white sheet that covered the body, revealing a teenager girl. “When they brought her in, we thought she had been attacked by a wolf or something,” he explained.

Sam and Dean grimaced at the bloodied hole, and Alex wrinkled her nose.

“Or something,” Dean agreed.

“But we were wrong.” The doctor picked up a small plastic bag next to the cadaver’s head. He showed it to the three of them. Inside the bag was a fake nail, although it as cracked and covered in blood.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Is that a . . .”

“It’s a press-on nail.” The doctor put the bag back down. “We found it in her temporal lobe.”

“So she did that herself?” Alex looked confused.

“Is that even possible?” Sam added.

“Uh-huh. She scratched her brains out. It’d take hours, and it’d hurt like hell, but it’s possible.”

Dean looked astonished. “How?”

“Pick your acronym. OCD, PCP, it all spells crazy.”

Sam reached over and pulled back the sheets to reveal Amber’s hands. The right hand had only four of the press-on nails. They were clean, but cracked.

“My guess,” the doctor continued, “Some sort of phantom itch. I mean, an extreme case, but . . .”

“A phantom itch?” Dean sounded skeptical.

“Yup.” The doctor pulled the sheet back over the cadaver’s head before sliding the slab back into the metal cupboards. "All it takes is someone talking about an itch -- or thinking about one, even -- and suddenly you can't stop scratching."

Sam looked slightly disturbed. "Thanks doc." He unconsciously reached up, itching under his collar. As Alex watched, Dean scratched his ear, and she resisted the temptation to scratch as well.

The doctor didn't notice. “Anything else I can do for you?”

The Winchesters exchanged looks, and Sam shook his head. “Thank you for your time. And, uh, if anything strange happens, give us a call.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card.

“Sure thing.” The doctor watched them leave.

 

 **“O** kay, that was strange.” Alex slid into the backseat. “She scratched her brains out? Funky.”

"Yeah. That's strange."

"Even more strange than a werewolf." Dean started the car. "Should we swing by the police and get the file?"

"May as well. Then we'll talk to any witnesses."

 

 **T** wenty minutes later, Alex was sitting in the Impala, arms crossed. The car was parked in front of the house Sam and Dean were in; they were talking with the Hall family, who had found Amber's body. Alex flipped mindlessly through the report on her lap. Amber had been babysitting Jimmy Hall. The parents had found Amber on the couch when they came home.

She heard voices, and she looked up.

"Dean," Sam was saying, "there's no way itching powder made that girl scratch her brains out. It's just ground-up maple seeds."

Alex opened the door, stepping out.

"If you have any other theories, I'm open to them." Dean stopped by the driver's side door.

"You found something?"

Sam's phone rang, and he whipped it out.

"The kid said he put itching powder in Amber's hairbrush," Dean told Alex.

Alex huffed in laughter. "Itching powder made her scratch her brains out? Isn't that a myth?"

"We'll be right there." Sam hung up. "Uh, there's a new body at the hospital."

Dean opened the driver's side door. "Well, then. Let's go." He started the car as Sam and Alex got in.

 

 **T** hey quickly made their way down the hall to the morgue. "Doctor." Sam waved him down.

"Oh. Hello." Dr. Weaver motioned them over. "Thanks for coming so quickly."

"We hadn't gone too far." Dean reached the body bag first. "Another one?"

"Not the same thing, but I thought I'd call you anyways." Dr. Weaver unzipped the body bag, and Alex stepped closer. The body was browned, the skin black and cracking in some places. The eyes were gone, and the hair was black and thin.

Sam and Dean grunted, and Alex tipped her head. She's seen something like this before. With Bobby. She leaned closer, sniffing curiously.

Dean wrinkled his face. "Gross."

Alex straightened up. "He was electrocuted?"

"Exactly." Dr. Weaver zipped the body back up, and a nurse rolled it away.

"Any idea how?"

"Eh, maybe a loose wire or a piece of equipment shorted out. So far, we haven't found anything."

Sam watched the body go away. "Witnesses?"

"Yeah. A guy in there -- Stanley." The doctor pointed down a hallway. "He says he saw it, but he's not making a lick of sense. Senile."

"Thanks." Sam led them away.

"Did you have to smell the body?" Dean glanced down at Alex.

"He smelled like pork. Which means he was cooked." Alex smirked.

"Gross."

The turned into a room to find an old man sitting in a chair. He was facing away from them, looking out a window. "Uh, Mr. Stanley?" Sam cleared his throat.

"It was a joke," the old man insisted feebly. "I didn't know it would really work."

"What would work?"

Mr. Stanley looked up at Dean. "All I did was shake his hand." He held out his hand; all three could see that he was holding a joy buzzer.

Alex bit her lip. "That would do it," she muttered quietly.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "C-Can we borrow that?" Sam asked.

"I don't want it." Stanley took it off of his finger and held it out.

Sam hesitantly took it, pocketing it quickly. "Uh, thanks. One more thing. Where did you get it?”

“The conjurarium.”

 

 **T** hey hurried out to the car. "What the hell?"

"I don't know." Sam ran a hand through his hair. "I, uh . . . I don't know."

"You think it still works?" Dean unlocked the car. "We should test it, you know."

"On what?"

Dean smirked. "I got an idea."

 

 **H** alf an hour later they were in their motel room, all dressed in casual clothes. Dean placed a ham onto an aluminum tray, eyeing it appreciatively. "Yum."

Sam handed Dean the joy buzzer. "I took the batteries out."

"Alright." Dean put goggles on his face, taking the joy buzzer. He looked over at Sam and Alex, who were standing behind him. "You ready?"

"Hit it, Mr. Wizard."

Dean held the joy buzzer over the ham, took a deep breath, then pressed it against the hunk of meat. The crackling sound of electricity filled the air. As Alex watched, the meat blackened, and the sweet scent of cooked ham filled the room.

Dean pulled back, and the crackling noise stopped. The ham, however, still sizzled in a tantalizing manner. “That’ll do, pig.”

Alex snickered, stepping forward.

“What the hell?”

Dean shrugged, taking off his goggles. His eyes didn’t leave the ham.

“That crap isn’t suppose to work,” Sam continued.

“This thing doesn’t even have batteries.” Dean quickly removed his gloves, tossing the buzzer on the table.

“So . . . so what? Are we looking at cursed objects?”

“Sounds good.” Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. With a flick of the wrist it opened, and he cut off a piece of ham. “Maybe there’s a powerful witch in town.” He took a bite, nodding appreciatively.

Alex quickly followed suit. “Is it good?” she asked, tearing off a slice for herself.

“Mm-hmm.” Dean took another bite. “Is there any link between the itching powder and the joy buzzer?”

Sam shook his head. “Uh, one was made in China, the other Mexico, but they were both bought from the same store.”

Dean cut off another piece of ham. “Hmm.” He held it up. Sam shook his head in disbelief. Dean took a bite. “Your loss.”

“Should we go?” Alex took another piece. “Damn," she mumbled around the food. "This is delicious. Sure you don’t want some?”

Sam shook his head again. “N-No.”

Dean stuffed the rest of his slice into his mouth. “Let’s go,” he mumbled around it. He hesitated for a second, then pocketed the joy buzzer.

 

 **I** t was barely ten minutes before they had pulled up in front of the Conjurarium. All three got out, Dean locked the car, and they made their way into the shop. Alex looked around. Toys and prank items were everywhere, hanging on the walls, or laying on shelves.

“Sam!” Alex turned to see Dean holding up a whoopee cushion. He was grinning at his brother. Alex glanced over at Sam to see him shake his head and look around. Dean brought the whoopee cushion up to the front desk, dropping it on the counter.

A man came out of the back room. Seeing Dean, he walked up to the desk. “Welcome to the Conjurarium, sanctum of magic and mystery.”

Sam joined his brother up at the counter, and Alex slowly made her way over. “You the owner?” she heard Sam ask.

“Yep.”

“You sold any itching powder or joy buzzers lately?”

“Yeah, a grand total of one of each. They aren’t exactly big ticket items. Look, you boys here to buy something or what?”

Alex looked over to see Dean pull out his wallet. She took a second to study the owner. Male, very short brown hair. Not attractive -- then again, she hung out with the Winchesters; maybe her standards were a little high. He still wasn't attractive. Alex shook her head, clearing her thoughts to finish her analysis. He was wearing a white button down with thin blue stripes, and the shirt was slightly wrinkled. Yeah, he wasn't attractive. And he was old.

“So, you get many customers?” That was Sam. Alex walked over to him, standing close enough that their shoulders barely brushed. She pulled back slightly, eyes coming to rest on a packet of itching powder on the counter.

“Kids come in. They don’t buy much, but they’re more than happy to break stuff. These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing-vampire movies. The whole thing just make me so —”

“Angry?” Dean guessed.

The owner paused, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I am angry. This shop has been my life for twenty years, and now its wasting away to nothing.”

“Which is why you hate them.”

“I suppose.”

“So you’re taking revenge.” Dean pulled a rubber chicken from the display next to him and slapped it on the table. “With this.” Dean held up the joy buzzer from his pocket. The owner face showed confusion, which quickly turned to horror as Dean slammed the joy buzzer against the chicken. Electricity crackled through the hair, and the room began to stink.

“Oh no!” The owner let out a small cry, jumping back. He tripped, falling to the ground.

“Dean . . .” Alex began, eyes flickering between the owner and the melting rubber chicken.

Dean pulled back.

Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah, something tells me this guy isn’t a powerful witch.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Dean quickly retreated. Alex and Sam followed, pushing their way into the street.

“Smooth.” Alex hurried over to her side of the car.

“Well, that’s a theory down the drain.” Dean unlocked the car, sliding in behind the wheel.

Alex followed. “Now what?”

“Now we wait.” Dean waited until Sam had the door closed before he started the car. With a quick glance behind his shoulder, he put the Impala in drive and pulled out into the street.

 

 **N** othing happened for the rest of the night. They had ham for dinner — Dean had also gone out and got french fries and beverages. Sam and Dean had then sat at the table for a while, discussing the case. Alex shivered, looking outside to see the sun setting. “Dean,” she whined, “turn up the heat.”

Dean glanced back at her. “Can’t. Heater’s broken.”

Alex frowned, walking over to them. “It was working this afternoon!”

“Well, take a look, but it’s busted.”

Alex knelt beside the space heater, placing her hand on the cold pipes. “It’s like, thirty degrees out there,” she whined again.

Sam nodded. “Yup.”

“Looks like we’ll be piling in the same bed tonight.” Dean smirked slightly. “Unless Sam decides to take up the whole bed again.”

Alex looked at the beds. “Could I . . . could I combine the beds?”

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, then Dean shrugged. “Knock yourself out.”

Alex jumped up. “Awesome.” She hurried over to the beds, and stared at the nightstand in between the beds. Then she unplugged the lamp, laying it on the bed. She started dragging the nightstand out to the middle of the room. She saw Sam glance at her with barely concealed amusement, and she smirked back at him. Then she turned her attention to the bed. The mattress was on a heavy bed frame.

She gave it an experimental push, and didn’t budge. So she pulled the mattress off. She fell back with a huff, the mattress partially landing on top of her. She stood up, already breaking a sweat. “I need to get in better shape."

 

 **T** en minutes later, she had maneuvered the two bed frames so they were right next to each other. Then she hauled the mattress back onto its frame. “Done!” she exclaimed, falling down onto the mattress and pumping the air with a fist.

“How are we going to sleep in that?” Dean made his way over to them. “Unless you want to sleep in the crack.”

“No no no.” Alex stood up. “We sleep _horizontally_.” She paused. “I haven’t gotten the sheets yet, but you’ll see.”

“Alright.” Dean left her to her work.

 

 **A** nother ten minutes later, and it was done. Alex collapsed on the mega-bed, eyes closing. "There. Done." She heard Dean approached, and she cracked open an eye, looking up at him.

Dean shrugged. "Nice." He walked past her to the bathroom.

Alex frowned after him. "Your welcome for me working my ass off!" She heard Sam snicker, and she sighed. "Fine. Whatever. _I'm_ going to bed." She pointedly crawled under the sheets, curling up in the middle. Then she turned on the tv.

Dean came back out. "What? No. You don't get to sleep in the middle."

"Uh, yeah, I do." Alex didn't bother sitting up. "First of all, I made this bed. Second of all, I'm the smallest, which means I can't put off as much body heat as you guys. Thirdly, yeah. I kind of like the idea of sleeping between you two. You're like space heaters." When Dean didn't answer, Alex turned her attention back to the tv.

 

 **A** lex didn't remember falling asleep. But she woke up with a start, gasping for breath. Cold, starry moonlight shown through the thin window curtains, casting its light on the bed. Alex felt herself shaking. It wasn't from the cold; she looked to both sides to see the Winchesters. No. Her nightmare came back with such a force that she felt sick to her stomach. She shifted to her left, wrapping her arms around the first body she found. She wasn't sure who it was, but it brought comfort.

She pressed her head into the man's back. It was Sam. She could tell by his smell. He didn't stir, and she pushed herself even closer.

Behind her, the bed shifted, and Alex opened her eyes. "Dean?"

"You awake?" Dean's sleepy voice reached her ears.

Alex quickly shifted backwards into his arms. "Nightmare," she whispered.

Dean grunted, one arm coming to rest around her waist. "That sucks," he mumbled. Within a few seconds, he was back asleep.

Alex slowly followed suit, comforted by his presence.

 

 **T** he sun woke her up. Alex opened her eyes, letting out a groan. The bed was empty to her left. Sam was up. Behind her, there was a yawn as Dean held her even tighter. Alex kicked back her legs, catching him in the knee. "Let go of me," she grunted. "I have to pee."

Dean didn't move, so Alex rolled over in his arms until she was facing him, face even with his neck. He was still asleep. She placed her hands against his chest, literally pushing herself away.

Dean opened his eyes sleepily. They blinked in confusion. "Hey."

"You're a jerk." Alex rolled over to Sam's side of the bed. It was cold. She sat up, looking around. "Sam?"

Dean threw back the covers, getting up. He was still wearing jeans and a black shirt. "Fuck it's cold."

"Uh, yeah. It's January. In Nebraska." Alex reluctantly got up, hurrying over to her bag to pull on Sam's thick sweatshirt. "Can we please get someone in to fix the heater? Or at least get a different room?"

Dean pulled on his shoes. "I'll see what I can do." The door opened, and Sam stepped through. Dean didn't even look up. "Hey."

"Hey. You read the paper?"

Dean did look up at that. "Does it _look_ like I've read the paper?"

Sam dropped the local newspaper on the table. Alex looked up. He was already dressed in his suit and tie. Dean walked over to him, picking it up. "What?" His face twisted into a frown.

"Yeah. I know." Sam's eyes flickered over to Alex before going back to his brother. "We should go check it out."

"Okay." Dean nodded. He brushed past Alex on his way to the bathroom, leaving the girl staring after him.

Alex turned to Sam. "What?"

"A man was admitted to the hospital last night. Someone pulled out all his teeth."

"Can I come?"

"No."

"Please? It's cold in here."

"No. Just stay here." Sam looked over her shoulder as Dean stepped out, having quickly changed. "Ready?"

"Yup." Dean grabbed a blue stripped tie off of the dresser, laying is around the back of his neck. He then shoved his wallet into his pocket before grabbing the car keys. He looked over at Alex, who sat sitting on the bed. "We'll be back in an hour or two," he promised, quickly tying the tie. "Stay warm."

Alex huffed in disappointment as they left.

 

 **D** ean and Sam came back two hours later, just as promised. "Well?" Alex was curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in all of the sheets. The tv flickered, but no sounds came out.

Sam immediately made his way to the bathroom, grabbing his backpack on the way. Dean just shook his head. "This town is nine levels of crazy."

"Pray tell." Alex folded up her journal, letting fall onto the mega-bed next to her.

Dean wandered over to her, sitting crosslegged on the bed. "Well, first off, the man who lost his teeth claims it was the tooth fairy. Someone broke in, wearing, uh," Dean hesitated, then let out a noise of unbelief, "wearing wings and a pink tutu. He, or whatever it was, pulled out all his teeth and left thirty two quarters under his pillow."

Alex winced at the thought of someone pulling out all her teeth. "Ouch." Her teeth ached just thinking about it.

"That's not all. Three kids were admitted with stomach ulcers. Says they got them from mixing Coke and Pop Rocks. And another guy . . . his face froze."

"Froze?" Alex tipped her head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean froze. Like this." Dean pulled on the sides of his mouth, crossing his eyes. He held the face for a second, then dropped his hand.

Alex grinned. "Please do that again."

"No."

"Please?"

"No. Never again." Dean got off the bed. "Get dressed. Sam wants your help."

Alex didn't move from under the blankets. "Why?" The door opened, and Sam stepped out. "Why?" she repeated, turning her head to look at the taller Winchester.

Sam met her gaze. "Huh?" He looked over at his brother.

"She's gonna help you."

Sam's brow furrowed. "I can do it by myself, Dean."

"Just take her. She needs to get out."

Alex tossed back the sheets. "Fine, whatever." She slipped on her shoes, shivering at the cold. "Where are we going?"

Sam shrugged. "Library?"

"Okay." Alex grabbed her backpack, shoving her journal into the front pocket. "Can we get lunch? I'm hungry."

They left.

 

 **"S** o what are we doing?" Alex slid out of the front seat of the Impala. "Dean was remarkably unhelpful."

Sam led the way into the library. "Whatever this is, it's reshaping reality. All these myths are coming true. It has the powers of a god. Or a trickster."

Alex's face lit up. _Trickster. Gabriel._ She knew the Winchesters met him at some point during the apocalypse. Could it be now? " _The_ Trickster?"

Sam huffed. "I hope not."

"I hope so." Alex pushed open the heavy library door, eyes closing momentarily in contentment at the rush of warm air. "I want to meet him."

Sam frowned. "Really?" His frown deepened. "I hate him."

"Mystery Spot. I know. I have the books." Alex skipped over to a table, sitting down. "I like him."

Sam dropped his bag on the table. He walked away, but Alex heard him muttered, "Great," under his breath.

Alex smiled. Sam was fun to tease. She did like the Trickster -- well, she thought she would like him when they met. Shaking the thought off, Alex pulled her journal out of her bag, dropping it on the table. Then she pulled out her second journal, setting it beside the other. She opened the first. It was a dark brown, and slightly worn; even though it was two years old, the pages were barely half-filled. With a sigh, she started documenting the last case.

Sam joined her just as she finished. He dropped a map on the table, and Alex looked up. "Whatcha doing?"

Sam didn't immediately answer. First, he dropped a stack of newspapers on the table. "I'm going to see if anything else strange has happened." He looked up. "What are you doing?"

"Journal." Alex closed it and dropped it next to Sam.

He took it, flipping through the pages. "Nice cow."

"Thanks." Alex laughed. He was talking about the werewolf case down in Texas. "I thought it was an appropriate thing to draw."

"Are you caught up?"

"Yeah, finally." Alex reached for the second journal, rolling her eyes. Sam was just like Bobby. Always on her case for not writing in her journal. She flipped open the second book to the forth page. She had started using the second journal for writing down spells or profiles on the different things they hunted. Right now, she was translating the entire _Rituale Romanum._ She wasn't very far.

 

 **T** hey were there for about an hour. Every one and a while, Alex would break the silence to inquire about a word she didn't know, but otherwise the only sounds coming from that table were the scribbling of pens and pencils.

Finally Sam let out a grunt, setting down the pen. "Interesting."

Alex looked up. "What's that?"

In front of Sam was a map of the town, large red x's in several spots. "I marked each place that these strange things have happened." He met Alex's gaze. "The newspapers didn't show much, but, uh, this is interesting." He turned the map. "Look. All the cases all within a two mile radius."

"Like a, like a blast zone of weird." Alex studied it, interested. "Cool."

Sam quickly folded the map, shoving it in his backpack. "Come on. We should tell Dean."

Alex quickly threw her things in her bag. "Can we get food?"

"Maybe."

 

 **T** hey didn't. Instead, they went straight back to the motel. Alex pulled her jacket tighter around her, wishing she had a winter coat. They walked up to the motel door, and, as Sam fumbled for the keys, Alex hopped on one foot, waiting to get inside. The door opened, and Alex pushed past Sam. "Oh God." Her eyes closed. "It's warm."

Dean smirked. "Got the heater fixed." He shoved a slice of ham into his mouth.

"Dude, seriously -- still with the ham?" Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"Ooh." Alex spun around. "Food!" She sat down at the table, shedding her coat, and reached for the food. She ignored Sam's disapproval.

Dean defended himself through a full mouth. "What? We don't have a fridge."

Sam pulled the map out of his backpack and put it down on the table in front of his brother. "Well, I found something."

"He did," Alex agreed. She cut off more ham.

Dean stood up, looking down at the map as Sam pointed at the red x's. "Um, tooth fairy attack was here, Pop Rocks and Coke was here, then you've got itching powder, face freeze, and joy buzzer." He pointed to each 'x' in turn. "All located within a two mile radius."

Alex stood up to get a better view.

"So, we've got a blast zone of weird, and inside, fantasy becomes reality."

Sam glanced over at Alex. She shrugged, knowing what he meant. She had said almost the exact same thing to him ten minutes ago. Usually it meant she remembered the case. This time, it was total coincidence.

Dean broke Alex out of her thoughts. "And what's the A-bomb at the center?"

"Four acres of farmland . . . and a house." Sam pointed respectively.

Dean frowned. "Our motel isn't in that circle by any chance?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Dean hesitated, then held up his hand. Alex wrinkled a nose to see that his right palm was covered in hair. "Really, Dean?"

Sam looked away, closing his eyes. "Ugh, dude." He sighed. "T-That's not what I think it is, is it?"

Dean shrugged, obviously not embarrassed. "I was bored. That nurse was hot." He grinned. Alex rolled her eyes.

Sam frowned. "You know you can go blind from that too."

Dean's grin faltered for a second, but he shrugged it off. "Give me five minutes. We'll go check out that house." He walked past his brother, heading farther into the motel.

"Hey, do _not_ use my razor!" Sam yelled after him.

As Dean past Alex, she saw him smirk. Then he disappeared into the bathroom. Alex turned back to Sam. He was shaking his head. "How do you put up with him?" she partially joked.

Sam huffed. He didn't answer.

Alex walked over and stripped off another piece of ham. She held it up to the Winchester, shaking it slightly. "Sure you don't want a bite?" When Sam didn't respond, she winked.

Sam sat down at the table. "I-Is it just me, or are you flirting with me a lot more than usual? Like, a lot more."

Alex looked down at Sam, head tipped. "I dunno," she finally admitted. "I guess." With a smile she added, "Just making up for lost time." She sat down as well, and her teasing smile faded. "Seriously. You were gone for like a month and a half. I missed you."

 

 **F** ive minutes later, Dean pulled the Impala up alongside a farmhouse. The ground was bare, the sun was bright; it almost looked like spring. But the nip in the air reminded everyone that it was in fact January. Alex pulled Dean's jacket tight around her, shifting uncomfortably on the cold leather seat.

Dean turned the car off, and both he and Sam got out. Alex started to as well, but Sam stopped her with one large hand. "Stay here."

"It's cold," the young woman whined.

"We'll call you if we need you." Dean slid his handgun into the back of his pants. "Keep an eye out for weird things."

Alex frowned, but obediently got back into the car. She closed the door with a soft huff. She watched as Sam and Dean walked up to the front door. Dean rapped on the door, and they waited, glancing around. Then the door opened. Alex couldn't see past the two tall hunters, and she pouted childishly. It wasn't fair that she had to stay behind. It was cold.

Sam turned around, looking straight at Alex. He waved her forward, and Alex sat up, confused. But she quickly got out and hurried over to the Winchester. "What?"

"The kid says you can come in."

Uh, okay." Alex stepped into the farmhouse. Sam followed and closed the door.

"Are you in the FBI too?"

Alex looked down in confusion. In front of her stood a young boy, barely ten years old. "Uh . . . yeah. That's me." Alex fumbled through her pockets for her badge. She quickly checked to make sure it was the right one before showing it to the kid.

He reached out and studied it carefully. "Okay." He handed it back to Alex. Then he turned and walked into the kitchen.

Alex glanced questioningly up at Dean, who shrugged. "He's the only one home," he mumbled before following the boy. Alex followed them into the kitchen.

"What's that?" Sam was asking.

"It's called soup." The boy turned off the stove and took the pot off of the burner. "You heat it up and you eat it." He poured it into a bowl as Sam chuckled.

"Right. I, I know. It's just, um . . . I used to make my own dinner, too, when I was a kid."

"Well, I'm not a kid." The boy carried his bowl over to the table.

"Right. No, I, I know. Um . . ."

"I make my own lunch too sometimes," Alex pointed out casually, cutting off Sam's stuttering. "Name's Riley, by the way."

"And I'm Robert." Sam held out his hand, and the boy shook it, introducing himself again.

"Jesse, nice to meet you."

Dean held out a picture. On it was a drawn picture of a masculine man wearing a tutu and pink wings. Alex held back a laugh. "Did you draw this?" Dean asked.

Jesse nodded. "It's the tooth fairy."

"That's what you think the tooth fair looks like, huh?" Dean looked at the picture again, mouth twisting into a slightly amused grin.

"Yeah. My dad told me about him."

Dean glanced at his brother, a message passing between them. "Huh."

"What, didn't your dad tell you about the tooth fairy?"

Dean turned his attention back to the kid and let out a small chuckle. "My dad told me different stories." He put the drawing down on the table.

"Well, the tooth fairy isn't a story."

Sam shifted his weight, looking down at the boy. "What do you know about itching powder, Jesse?"

"That stuff will make you scratch your brains out!"

"Rock Pops and Coke?"

"You mix them and you'll end up in the hospital. Everyone knows that." Jesse scrunched up his face slightly as the question.

Dean pulled out the joy buzzer and hold it up.

Jesse gasped, face wide with fear. "You shouldn't have that?"

"Why not?"

"It can electrocute you."

Alex squinted in confusion at his answers. Everything he believed was coming true in this town.

She almost missed Dean's reply. "Actually, it can't. It's just a wind-up toy. It's totally harmless. Doesn't even have batteries."

"So it can't shock you?" Jesse's face became one of confusion again.

"Nope. Not at all. I swear."

The boy studied Dean for several seconds before nodding his head. "Oh. Okay."

"I mean, all it does it just shake in your hand. It's kind of lame. See?" Dean suddenly pushed the joy buzzer into Sam's chest. Sam jumped with a strangled cry, and Alex started as well. It buzzed, but otherwise nothing happened. Dean shoved the toy back into his pocket, smirking as Sam glared. "What did you say your name was again?" He stepped forward, picking back up the drawing.

"Jesse."

"Well, Jesse," Dean dug around in his pocket, here's my card." He held it out to the boy. "If you need us, give me a call, okay?"

"Okay." Jesse studied the card carefully before dropping it on the table.

"Yeah. We should be going." With that, Dean walked away.

Sam and Alex followed.

 

 **"D** ude, what the hell?" Sam hurried down the porch steps after his brother.

"I had a hunch," Dean shrugged. "I went with it."

"You risked my ass on a hunch?" Sam's voice shook with anger.

Dean snorted. "You're fine. Besides, now we know who's turning this town into Willy Wonka's worst nightmare."

"The kid." Sam stopped beside the car.

Den turned to face him. "Yeah. Everything Jesse believes comes true. He thinks the tooth fairy looks like Belushi, uh, joy buzzers really shock people, boom, that's what happens."

"Yeah, but convince him the joy buzzers don't actually work, and they go from killing machines back to crap toys."

"He probably doesn't even know he's doing it." Dean glanced back up towards the house. He must have spotted Jesse, because he waved. Then he turned back to his brother. "How is he doing it?" He unlocked the car door and slid in.

Alex got into the backseat. "Ever run into anything like this before?"

"Never." Sam adjusted his seatbelt as Dean started the car.

"Okay. Something new." Alex put on a pondering face. "I don't remember anything about this, so . . ."

"So that means squat." Dean turned out onto the main road. When Alex made an offended noise, he added, "Listen. Recently, you've been more miss than hit on these kind of things."

Alex slumped in her seat, slightly hurt by Dean's words." I try," she mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear. They didn't respond, and she fell into brooding silence.

 

 **T** hey went straight back to motel. Dean and Alex got out, and she turned up her collar against the wind. "Dean." Sam held out his hand. "I'm gonna see what I can dig up on Jesse, okay?"

"Yup." Dean tossed his brother the keys. "Keep her safe."

Sam grunted and got back into the car. It purred to life and drove away.

A icy wind hit Alex square in the face, and she shivered, teeth rattling in her skull. She shifted closer to Dean. He wordlessly put an arm around her shoulder, drawing her near. Then he led her towards their motel room.

He unlocked the door, and Alex pushed her way through. The room was warm, and she closed her eyes in bliss. "The heater's working," she purred.

Dean closed the door behind them. "And you say you lived in Minnesota for most of your life?" he half-teased.

"In _Minnesota,_ I had a coat." Alex flopped down on the mega-bed. "Dean . . ." she whined.

"Shut up."

Alex chuckled. She wiggled under the covers and turned on the tv.

 

 **A** fter a little while, Dean joined her on the bed with a leather-bound book. He leaned against the headboard, long legs stretching out in front of him. Alex rolled over, resting her back against her legs. A hand came to rest on her side, and Alex closed her eyes, listening to her show's dialogue.

 

 **T** he door opened, and Sam stepped through. Neither Dean nor Alex had moved. When the door slammed closed, both looked up.

Sam studied them for only a second before speaking. "So, I dug up what I could on Jesse Turner. It's not much. Uh, B student, won last year's Pinewood Derby. But get this. Jesse was adopted. His birth records are sealed."

"So you unsealed them, and?" Dean started to shift, and Alex groaned. He ceased.

"There's no father listed, but Jesse's biological mom is named Julia Wright. She lives in Elk Creek, on the other side of the state."

Dean closed his book and tossed it onto the bed. He stood up, and Alex groaned again. "Let's go find her, then." He pulled on his suit jacket, glancing at Alex.

She shook her head. "No thanks. I'm warm, I _was_ comfortable. I'm gonna stay."

Dean shrugged. "Suit yourself." He took the keys from his brother and opened the door. They left.

"Have fun storming the castle," Alex drawled after them. She shifted in the bed, grumbled an obscenity under her breath as the lack of Dean next to her.

 

 **T** he sun began to set, but Sam and Dean didn't return. Alex wandered mindlessly around, munching on the leftover ham. At five thirty, however, she got hungry. She searched through her bag for any loose change. She found a twenty dollar bill, and she grinned at her luck. Then she pulled on an extra jacket and reached for the door.

Fuck. She needed a spare key. She quickly backtracked. That could've gone badly. She searched the table; nothing. With an angry frown, she realized that Sam had the spare key. "Dammit," she huffed before stopping over to her bag. She pulled out her lock-picking kit and shoved it into her pocket. Then she stomped out of the room, swearing at Sam under her breath.

 

 **S** he ate at a Chinese restaurant down the street before returning to the motel. She knelt down, pulling out the lock-picking kit. She swore at Sam one more time -- she was in a bad mood, sue her -- before she inserted the torque into the keyhole.

After a minute, her hands started to go numb. She tried one more time with the rake, and the door swung open. Alex grinned, moving forward while standing up. She hit a body with a thud. Impulsively she pushed away, balling her fists, ready to strike.

She dropped her fists as she recognized the man. "Oh. Hey." She pushed her way into the motel and slammed the door. "Uh, what are you doing?"

Castiel watched as she crossed the room. "Dean told me to come here." His lips twisted into a small frown. "He said you would be here. Where were you?"

"I was getting dinner." Alex flopped down on the bed, turning back on the tv. She stared at the screen for several seconds before turning her attention back to the angel. "So. What's new with you?"

"Nothing." Castiel didn't move.

"Mm." A small pause. "You doing okay?"

"My grace is still fading." Castiel stepped towards her, then stopped. "Alex, I . . ."

The door opened, and Sam stepped through. Castiel stopped, gaze dropping to his shoes before turning to look at Dean.

Sam's gaze flickered from Alex to Castiel. "I take it you got our message." He sat down at the table as Dean entered, closing the door behind him.

"It's lucky you found the boy." Castiel's tone changed, Alex noted. More . . . professional? Deeper? She couldn't place it, but there was a change.

"Oh yeah," Dean was saying, "real lucky. What do we do with him?"

"Kill him."

Both Winchesters froze. They stared at Castiel, eyes widened with shock and confusion. Alex jumped off the bed. "Cas--"

"This child is half demon and half human," Castiel cut her off, eyes still trained on Dean, "but it's far more powerful than either. Other cultures call this hybrid cambion or katako. You know him as the antichrist." He walked over to the Winchesters.

"Antichrist?" Alex seemed shocked behind words. "You sure?"

Castiel sat down at the table. As he did, there was a large farting sound. Alex blinked in confusion, staring down at the angel. Then she understood. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Castiel didn't seem to understand. The noise continued as he shifted in his seat. "That wasn't me," he told them. He pulled out the whoopee cushion and dropped it on the table.

"Who put that there?" Dean asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Sam grimaced at his brother's immaturity. "Anyways. I, uh, I don't get it. Jesse is the devil's son?"

Castiel let out a sigh. "No, of course not. Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right --"

Alex whacked him over the head. "Don't be stupid," she chastised. "The Bible says nothing about the antichrist being Lucifer's son."

Castiel looked up at her. "I--"

"Trust me, I've looked up all things Bible-apocalypse related." Alex crossed her arms.

Castiel just cleared his throat. He looked slightly embarrassed, and didn't argue. "Either way, the antichrist is not Lucifer's child. It's just demon spawn. But it is one of the devil's greatest weapons in the war against heaven."

Dean watched their interaction carefully, only speaking after Castiel had finished. "Well, if Jesse's a demonic howitzer, then what the hell's he doing in Nebraska?"

"The demons lost him. They can't find him. But they're looking." Castiel turned in his chair to face the Winchesters once again.

"And they lost him because?"

"Because of the child's power. If hides him from both angels and demons. For now."

"So he's got, like, a force field around him. Well, that's great. Problem solved." Dean leaned his hands on the back of Sam's chair.

By the look on the angel's face, it was obvious he didn't agree. "With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong. Soon, he will do more than just make a few toys come to life -- something that will draw the demons to him. The demons will find this child. Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose. And then, with a word, this child will destroy the Host of Heaven."

"Now I know _that's_ not in the Bible." Alex muttered.

Castiel didn't turn to look at her. "I told you the Bible got most things wrong," she heard him reply.

"Wow. I've never heard you be smug before."

Her words were drowned out by Dean's protest. "Whoa whoa whoa, whoa. Wait. You're saying that -- that Jesse's gonna nuke the angels?"

"We cannot allow that to happen."

"Wait." Chair legs cried out as they were pushed backwards, allowing the younger Winchester to stand up. "We're the good guys. We -- we don't just . . . kill children!"

Castiel stood up to even the height difference between him and Sam. "A year ago," he growled, his voice dropping, "you would have done whatever it took to win this war."

"Things change," Sam growled back, holding the angel's gaze.

Dean moved to position himself between them, a hand resting on his brother's arm. "Okay. Hey, look, we are not going to kill him. Alright? But we can't leave Jesse here either." He glanced at Alex. When she grunted in agreement, he continued. "We know that. So . . . we'll take him to Bobby's. He'll know what to do. With him, a-and with Alex, we can figure this out."

"You'll kidnap him?" Castiel's frowned deepened. "What is going on in this town, it's what happens when this thing is _happy_. You cannot imagine what it will do if it's angry. Besides, how will you hold him? With a thought, he could be halfway around the world."

"So we--"

"So we tell him the truth," Sam interrupted. "You say Jesse's destined to go dark side. Fine. But he hasn't yet. So if we lay it all out for him, what he is, the apocalypse, everything, he might make the right choice."

No one spoke for several seconds. Then Castiel let out a growl. "You didn't. I can't take that chance." He disappeared.

Sam glared at where the angel had stood. "Dammit!"

Alex shifted awkwardly when Dean's gaze came to rest on her. "I, I don't know, guys. I'm sorry. I don't remember."

Dean's eyes flashed in frustration. "Dammit." He echoed his brother. "We have to get to Jesse's." He ran out the door. Sam and Alex exchanged worried looks before following close behind.

 

 **D** ean sped down the road, cursing under his breath. "If Cas touches that kid," he growled, gripping the wheel even tighter. The car jerked as he accelerated even faster.

The Impala skidded into the large driveway, kicking up dirt. The doors were flung open, and all three jumped out. Sam reached the front door first. With a kick, the door flung open, and the two Winchesters pushed their way in. Alex followed close behind. Jesse stood in the corner, eyes wide, staring at them.

"Was there a guy here?" Dean asked sharply. "In a trench coat?"

In response, the boy pointed to the floor. In front of him stood a small plastic figure. Even from the back, Alex could tell who it was. She hurried past Dean and knelt down, picking it up. "Oh, Cas," she murmured, eyes narrowing in pity. "What did he do to you?"

She looked up at Dean, and then at Sam. Dean looked at Jesse. "We need to talk."

Alex watched as they went into the living room. She looked back down at the Castiel-figure. "I hope you can hear me," she finally said, voice growing sharp. "Because you're a total idiot. Why the hell did you think that would work? You're the one who said he could destroy all of heaven. And you thought you could take him on on your own?" She shook her head. "We'll get you fixed."

She carried him into the living room. Jesse was sitting on the couch, and Sam was sitting in a chair. Alex crossed the room and placed Castiel on the mantel, turning him so he could see the room. "Can he hear us?" she asked casually. "Or see us?"

"I-I don't know," Jesse stammered out.

"Well, I hope you turn him back soon," the girl joked, but underneath her words was a sense of darkness. "But after I'm done with him, he'll wish he was still like that."

Neither Winchester showed any interest in her humor; Alex even doubted that they heard the last part of her sentence.

"Was he your friend?" Jesse asked, eyes flickering up to Castiel.

"Him? No."

"I did that." The boy's gaze didn't leave the mantle. "But how did I do that?"

"You're a superhero."

Jesse looked at Dean, confusion written across his face. "I am?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dean knelt down in front of him. "I mean, who else could turn someone into a toy. You're Superman -- minus the cape and the go-go boots. See, my, my partners and I, we work for a secret government agency. It's out job to find kids with special powers. In fact, we're here to take you to a hidden base in South Dakota, where you'll be trained to fight evil."

"Like the X-men?"

"Exactly." Alex nodded.

"Exactly like the x-men," Dean confirmed. He chuckled. "In fact, the, uh, the guy we're taking you to --he's even in a wheelchair."

Alex grinned, casting a glance at Sam. He seemed amused.

Dean continued. "You'll be a hero. You'll save lives. You'll get the girl. Sounds like fun, right?"

Suddenly, Dean was thrown sideways. He hit the wall hard, pinned there by an invisible force.

Alex spun around to see a woman walk into the room. Blonde hair, green jacket, jeans. "They're lying to you," the woman said. Sam was thrown back beside Dean.

Jesse jumped to his feet.

"Don't get up, dreamboat. Can't hurt you. Orders." With a flick of the demon's hand, Alex found herself between the Winchesters. She turned to the three of them. "You, on the the other hand? Hurting you's encouraged." She flicked her wrist again.

Dean was flung forward, hitting the opposite wall. Then he was thrown back next to Alex. Dean let out a loud cry.

"Leave him alone!" Jesse cried, eyes wide.

The demon turned her attention back to Jesse. She leaned down, studying his face. "Jesse. You're beautiful." Her voice was sickly sweet. "You have your father's eyes."

The young boy tried to sound confident. "W-Who are you?"

"I'm your mother."

Alex struggled at her invisible bonds, letting out a gasp as they were tightened. Her feet dangled above the floor, pinned against the wall.

"No, you're not." Jesse's eyes flickered over to the three hunters.

"Mm-hmm. You're half human . . . half one of us."

"She means demon, Jesse." Dean's words were cut off as the demon straightened up and closed her fist. Dean let out a groan of pain, and the demon turned back to the boy.

"Those people you call your parents, they lied to you, too. You're not theirs. Not really."

"My mom and dad love me." Jesse seemed genuinely confused.

"Do they? Is, is that why they leave you alone all day? Because they love you so much? These people -- these imposters -- they told you that the tooth fairy was real and that your toys could hurt you and a hundred other things that aren't true. They love you so much, they made your whole life a lie. Look into your heart, Jesse. You've always known you weren't theres. You've always known you were different. Everyone has lied to you. They're not FBI agents." She pointed a finger at Dean. "And you're not a superhero."

Jesse looked over at Sam, then his eyes went back to the demon. "Then what am I?"

"You're powerful You can have anything you want. You can do anything you want."

"Don't listen to her Jesse!" Dean groaned in pain again as the demon held up a fist.

"They treated you like a child. Nobody trusted you. Everybody's lied to you. Doesn't that make you angry?"

Jesse balled his fists, and his face darkened. The room started to shake, and the lights flickered. Alex looked up at Sam, eyes wide.

The demon looked elated. "See? It does make you angry. But I'm telling you the truth, Jesse." As she spoke, a glass vase on the mantle shattered. "Wouldn't it be better if there were no lies? Come with me and you can wash it all clean. Start over. Imagine that -- a world without lies."

"She's right," Sam suddenly said. "We lied to you." The demon looked at him, eyes bleeding black. "But I'll tell you the truth," Sam continued. The demon raised a hand, clenching it into a fist, and Sam gasped for breath, head lolling back. "I just want . . ." he gasped out, "to tell . . ."

"Stop it."

Sam fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Everything stopped shaking, and Alex let out a breath.

Jesse looked up at the demon. "I want to hear what he has to say."

The demon looked down at the boy appreciatively. "You're stronger than I thought," she mused.

Sam pulled himself to his feet, and Alex struggled at her invisible bonds, but to no avail. "We lied to you," Sam began. "And I'm sorry. So here's the truth. I"m Sam Winchester. That's my brother Dean, and my friend Alex. W-We hunt monsters."

"Except when you are the monster," the demon interjected, a smile twisting on her face. "Right Sammy?"

Sam ignored her. "And that woman right there, her name is Julia. She's your mother. But the thing inside of her, the thing you're talking to -- it's a demon."

"A demon?" Jesse repeated. He looked up at the woman, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"He's done nothing to lie to you since the moment you met him," the demon insisted. "Don't listen to him. Punish him."

"Sit down and shut up." Suddenly the demon was forced backwards into a chair. She struggled to speak, but was unable. Alex struggled again, already knowing it was useless.

"There's, uh, kind of a . . . a war between angels and demons," Sam continued carefully, warily watching the boy, "and . . . you're a part of it."

"I'm just a kid."

"You can go with her if you want. I can't stop you. No once can. But if you do . . . millions of people will die."

"She said I was half demon." Jesse looked up into Sam's face. "Is that true?"

"Yes. But you're half human too. You can do the right thing. You've got choices, Jesse. But if you make the wrong ones, it'll haunt you for the rest of your life."

The boy's eyes grew slightly wider as the reality set it. "Why are you telling me this?!" he pleaded, tears welling up.

"Because I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn't."

Jesse was silent for several, long seconds, eyes first on Sam, and then on the floor. Finally, he turned to the demon, fists clenched. "Get out of her," he commanded.

The chair the demon was in slid backwards, hitting the wall. The woman threw back of her head, and black smoke billowed upwards, flying up the chimney. As the demon left, Alex and Dean fell to the ground. "How did you do that?" Dean panted, looking over at Jesse.

The kid shook his head. "I just did."

Dean grinned. "Kid . . . you're awesome."

Alex leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. She looked up at Jesse's voice. "Is she gonna be alright?"

Dean got to his feet, glancing over at Julia. "Eventually." He bent down, and Alex watched as he picked up something off the ground. It was Castiel. Alex struggled to her feet. "He okay?"

"As fine as he can be." Dean turned to Jesse. "Look, uh, truth is, he's kind of a buddy of mine. Is there any way you could turn him back?"

"He tried to kill me."

"Right. Uh. But he's a -- he's a good guy. He was just confused."

Jesse didn't say anything.

"He's really not that bad," Alex added. "Like Dean said. He was confused. He, uh, he thought this was going a different direction."

When Jesse still didn't respond, Dean sighed. "Okay. It's been a long night. We'll . . . talk about it later." He put Castiel back on the mantel.

"What now?" Jesse looked up at Sam.

Dean glanced back at his brother. When he nodded, Dean turned back to Jesse. "Now we take you somewhere safe, get you trained up. You'd be handy in a fight, kid."

"What if I don't want to fight?"

"Jesse." Sam stepped forward to sit on the table in front of the boy. "You're powerful. More powerful than . . . pretty much anything we've ever seen. That make you--"

"A freak," Jesse interrupted.

"To some people, maybe. But not to us. See, we're kind of freaks ourselves."

"I can't stay here, can I?" Jesse looked around his home.

"No." Dean shook his head. "The demons know where you are, and more will be coming."

"I won't go without my mom and dad."

"There's nothing more important than family," Sam agreed. "We get that. And if you really want to take them with you, we'll back your play. But you got to understand -- it's gonna be dangerous for them too."

"What do you mean?

"Our dad . . . he would take us with him wherever he went," Dean explained.

"Where is he now?"

"Dead," Sam answered bluntly. "A demon killed him."

"Look, Jesse . . . once you're in this fight . . ." Dean bent down to Jesse's level, "you're in it till the end, win or lose."

Alex nodded in silent agreement. She looked up at the mantle, and picked Castiel up, rolling him in her hands nervously. Realizing what she was doing, she quickly held him still.

"W-what should I do?" Jesse asked, eyes wide.

"We can't tell you," Sam said quietly. "It's your choice. It's not fair. I know."

Jesse turned his gaze to him. "Can I go see my parents? I, I need to . . . say goodbye."

Dean nodded. "Sure."

"Of course," Sam echoed. He watched Jesse hurry up the stairs.

When he was out of sight, Alex put Castiel back down with a sigh. "You think he'll come quietly?" she murmured.

"He will," Sam promised. He wandered over to the fireplace and picked up the Castiel figure. He examined him mindlessly, then put him down.

"He's been up their a long time," Dean finally said.

"Give him a little longer," Sam insisted. However, he glanced up the stairs. When Jesse didn't reappear, he finally said, "Maybe we should go check on him."

Dean nodded, and crossed the living room in four strides. Sam and Alex hurried after him. They pushed themselves into the boy's room, and stopped dead. It was empty.

"He's gone."

Alex spun around at Castiel's voice, a smile across her face. "Hey."

"Where?" Sam asked, cutting her off.

"I don't know." Castiel tipped his head as he looked at Sam. "Jesse put everyone in town back to normal -- the one's still alive."

Sam walked over to the small bed and picked something up. "Hey." Alex turned to see that he was holding a piece of paper.

"What does it say?" Dean walked over to his brother.

Sam quickly scanned the note. "That he had to leave to keep his parents safe, that he loves them, and he's sorry."

Dean turned to the angel. "How do we find him?"

Alex shook her head, and Castiel frowned. "With the boy's powers, we can't. Not unless he wants to be found." With that, he was gone.

Sam dropped the note, and Dean let out a huff. "Crap."

"Now what?"

Dean brushed past Alex. "Now we go home."

 

 **F** ive minutes later, they were in the Impala. "You think Jesse's gonna be okay?" Dean finally asked, breaking the silence.

Sam took a deep breath. "I hope so."

"You know, we destroyed the kid's life by telling him the truth."

"We didn't have a choice, Dean."

"Yeah." Dean was silent for a second before speaking again. "You know, I'm starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke -- protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. The more I think about it . . . the more I wish Dad had lied to us."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, me too."

Alex leaned forward, resting her head on the back of the front seat. "My parents -- my real parents -- they lied to me. When my mom was dying. They said that she was fine, that she was just tired, even when there were days where she wouldn't come out of her room." She shot a glance at Sam. He twisted his head to look at her, then quickly looked away, their heads being too close for comfort. "I thought she just didn't want to see me, you know? When she died, I was right there. Sitting on her bed, reading her a book. I didn't even know what happened." She fell into silence.

Not knowing how to respond, the Winchesters simply didn't.

 

 **T** hey swung by the motel, and Alex crawled into bed. "What's the date?" she muttered.

Sam glanced at the clock. "Uh, still the tenth?"

"Eleventh in half an hour." Dean sat down at the table, pulling his laptop close. Alex flicked on the tv. After a few seconds, she decided on a nature documentary about the antarctic.

There was a flutter of wings, and Alex looked up to see Castiel standing by the Winchesters.

Dean glanced at the angel. "Hey Cas. What's up?"

"I didn't find Jesse." Castiel looked over at Alex, and then at the tv. When neither Winchester responded, he tipped his head, wandering over to her.

Alex scooted out of the way to make room. "It's about penguins," she explained.

"Huh. Funny creatures." Castiel sat at the edge of the bed, eyes trained steadily on the screen.

"Yeah." Alex watched the angel out of the corner of her eye. An idea sparked her in mind, and she batted it back and forth before speaking. "Where do you keep your angel blade?" she finally blurted out.

Dean coughed loudly, obviously covering up laughter. Alex shot him a glare, assuming the worst. Castiel, however, turned his body to face her. The silver gleam of the weapon appeared as it slid out of his right sleeve, slipping seamlessly into his hand.

Alex nodded. "Okay. Cool." She watched as the blade slid back up into his sleeve, then reached out, grabbing his forearm. She felt nothing.

"W-What are you doing?"

Alex pulled his arm across his lap, mind completely focused on the task at hand. "Where is it?" she grunted. She slid her hand up inside the trench coat. She felt the inside of his elbow, but there was nothing. She glanced up to see Castiel watching her, a confused look upon his face. She pulled back, blushing slightly, but ignoring it nonetheless. "How?"

In response, Castiel lowered his arm slightly, and the weapon slid out. Alex took it from his hands. "Careful," the angel warned. "It's sharp."

"It doesn't look sharp." Alex held it upright, staring. There was a loud thud, and Alex jumped. She cried out as the blade slipped, sliding across her chin before landing on the blankets.

"Sorry." Dean reached down to pick up his gun. He glanced at Alex, lips twisting into a small frown. "You, uh, got something . . ." He motioned to his chin.

Alex swiped the back of her hand across her own chin, grunting in frustration to find blood. "Dammit."

Castiel picked up his weapon. "Maybe I should go." Before anyone could protest, he was gone.

Alex kept wiping away the red liquid. "Dammit!" she repeated again, this time with more conviction. She got up and disappeared into the bathroom.

 

 **S** he came back out a few minutes later. Her chin had stopped bleeding, but it was deep enough to probably leave some sort of scar. As she stepped into the main room, Dean got up. In three strides he had crossed the room and promptly collapsed on the giant bed.

"You going to bed?" Sam sat down at the table and pulled out his laptop.

"Hell yeah. Screw consciousness, that's what I say."

Alex sat down next to Sam. She flipped out her knife and sawed off the remaining ham off the bone. "I actually don't like ham," she pointed out absently before nibbling on the meat.

Sam just shook his head. "How's the chin?"

"I'll live."

Sam grunted in acknowledgment. He logged on to his account, and effectively tuned Alex out.

Alex gave up and curled up on the bed next to Dean. He grunted, turning his head to look away from her. The young woman tried to pull the blankets up over her. She stopped. Dean was laying on them. "Dean," she whined. "Move your ass."

Dean purposefully ignored her. Alex turned, pressing her feet against the hunter's side. Then she pushed. "I said move!"

It did little, but it did free up enough blankets for her to crawl under. She lay there, thinking, listening to Sam's incessant typing and Dean's steady breathing until she drifted into a light sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Unfortunately, I won't be able to post again until Sunday the 19th. I'm going on vacation with my family, and there's no wifi up there. None at all. *sigh*
> 
> But Gabriel's coming.


	34. The Curious Case of Dean Winchester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm back! Enjoy ^^

**"M** ight've found us a case." Sam's voice roused Alex from her sleep. She rolled over to find the bed next to her empty.

"Let me see."

Alex sat up to see both Winchesters sitting at the table. "Yeah, in southern Colorado." Sam spun his laptop so his brother could see. "Sounds like our kinda thing, right?"

Dean was silent for a few seconds, eyes flickering across the screen. "Yeah," he finally agreed. "That's weird."

"What?" Alex finally, and reluctantly, threw back the covers and got up, wincing at the cold floor. She hurried over to the Winchesters.

"Bobby gave us a case. A twenty-five year old male was found dead by his wife." Sam pulled his laptop back to him. "The cause of death? Old age."

A surprised noise escaped from the back of Alex's throat. "Old age?" she repeated. "Yeah, that sounds weird." She tried to stifle a yawn.

Sam noticed. "Go back to bed," he suggested. "It's been a long night." When Alex hesitated, he added, "We'll leave in the morning."

Alex nodded. "Okay. Thanks." Alex walked back over to the bed.

"Yup." Sam and Dean turned back to their conversation, talking in hushed voices.

 

 **S** he was being lifted. Alex cracked open her eyes, confused. "Wha . . ?"

"You're up." Sam looked down at her. "We thought you'd never wake up."

"Coulda tried something else." Alex leaned her head against Sam's upper arm, stifling a yawn. "Don't need to carry my like a baby."

"You are a baby," Sam teased. He let her down. "Your stuff's packed. Dean's checking us out."

"K." Alex grabbed her bag off of the floor and stumbled towards the door. Sam reached out to steady her as she almost tripped over a pillow. She gently brushed him off, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and made her way out to the Impala.

 

**January 12th, 2010**

**Trinidad, Colorado**

**I** t was an eight and a half hour drive down to their destination, including the brief stop for some sort of brunch. Alex was dropped off at the nearest motel, which happened to suck. Alex reluctantly sat down on the bed, desperately trying not to think of where those spots on the sheets came from. She flipped on the tv. Basic cable. She settled with watching the Simpsons.

 

 **H** alf an hour later her phone rang. Alex eagerly answered it. "Sam! Hey."

"Uh, hey. How's it going?"

"Good, good." Alex looked around. "This motel sucks."

"Sorry."

"What'd you find?"

"Well, we're going to talk to Mrs. Whitlow. She's, uh, she's the wife of one of the missing people in this town."

Alex frowned. "You think they're connected? A twenty year old grandpa and a couple of missing guys?"

"Bobby seems to think so."

Alex smiled at the mention of the hunter. "Well, he's usually right. Carry on."

Sam hung up, and Alex tossed her phone onto the bed.

 

 **S** am came back two hours later. Alex voiced her greeting, and he grunted in response, grabbing his back pack and dropping it on his bed. Alex sat up, looking up at him "You were gone a long time."

"Yeah. Like I said, we talked to the wife of one of the missing men. Cliff Whitlow, eighty five years old. Went missing one week ago."

"Okay. And?"

"Dean found receipts for Madame Liu's Golden Palace. That's that motel on the other side of town. Same room every Tuesday, like clockwork."

Alex tipped her head. "Today's Tuesday."

"Yeah, well, we went down to check it out."

"And?" Alex leaned forward, interested in where this was going.

"Well, we walked in the room, and," Sam ducked his head, embarrassed, "there was this guy, and, um, two girls. In bed. Anyways, the guy looked to be about thirty five, but he had the same tattoo as Cliff. Turns out he is Cliff Whitlow."

"What? So, it's like the opposite of what happened to the dead guy."

"Pretty much." Sam grabbed a jacket out of his bag. "He said some interesting things when we asked him about it. Said he won those years in a poker game."

"A poker game," Alex repeated. "So, what? You play for years instead of money?"

"That's exactly what he said." Sam looked over at the girl. "Why? Does this sound familiar?"

"No, not really. Sorry." Seeing Sam's face, she lowered her head. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"It's not your fault."

"I know about the apocalypse," Alex insisted. "I know a lot about it! It's just . . . nothing's happened yet. A-And I don't know when it's going to happen! Six months, a year, two years --"

"I said it's not your fault," Sam cut her off gently. "We'll be fine." He pulled on his jacket. "Well, we're looking for this Patrick guy in all of the bars. It'll be a while before we're back." He paused, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cash, held together by his money clip. He dropped thirty dollars on the table. "Go get some dinner at some point. Call if you need anything."

Alex smiled. "Thanks, Sam."

He grunted, and he left. Alex turned back to the tv.

 

 **S** am left her enough money that Alex was contentedly full by the time she returned to the motel. She dropped the change on the table and lay down on the bed, reaching for Dean's computer. She lost herself in the internet.

 

 **"H** oly fuck!" Alex jumped to her feet, eyes wide.

"Language!" Dean stepped through the door. Or, at least she thought it was Dean.

Alex ran over to him, concerned. "Dude! What happened? You look old!"

"Dean's an idiot."

Alex turned at the new voice. "Bobby?" She grinned, which quickly faded. "Uh, how did you get down here?"

The old hunter wheeled his way into the motel, looking around. Dean disappeared towards the bathroom, grumbling all the way.

Alex closed the door behind him, following him in. "I mean, I'm happy you're here, but you're in a chair. How--"

"I drove. How do you think?"

"You drove?" Alex's eyes flashed. "You can't move your feet, Bobby!"

"Craig helped me rig a few of my cars," Bobby snapped back. "People do do that, you know."

Alex fell silent. "What happened to Dean?" she finally asked.

"He lost fifty years." Bobby pulled out a beer. "He's an idiot."

"He bet his years?" Alex tipped her head. "Like actually? Why would he do that?" When Bobby didn't answer, her voice grew sharp. "Bobby? What did you do?"

"I tried to get my damn legs back." The hunter slammed the fridge door, and it shook with the force. "I tried to talk him out of it. I'm the better poker player, dammit. He didn't stand a chance." He rolled over to her. "How are you doing? They treating you good?"

Alex ignored him. "You tried to what? Bobby, come on." She shifted so she was facing him. "Don't do this to yourself."

"Do what?" Bobby wheeled away, signaling the conversation was over. He disappeared out the door.

"This isn't over, dammit." Alex crossed her arms. "I can outrun you! Bobby!" She was ignored and with a huff, she turned away.

 

 **T** he door opened. Sam stepped through. He was carrying a cardboard tray that had two sodas and burgers. He dropped them on the table with a nod. "I assume you already ate." When Alex nodded, he looked around. "Dean? You find anything?"

"Uh, you might say." The bathroom door opened and an old man stepped out. Alex jumped, eyes wide to see that he had aged even more. White hair, some wrinkles, dude had to be around eighty years old.

Sam let out a startled noise and whipped out his gun. "Who the hell are you?"

"Dude, relax. It's me." Dean was wearing the motel's crappy black bathrobe. He held out his hands non-threateningly.

Sam lowered his gun. "Dean?"

"Hi."

"What the hell happened?"

"I, you know . . . found the game." Dean walked over to the table and picked up his burger.

"You f -- I thought you said you were g-good at poker."

"I am. Shut up. So, you were just going to shoot some old guy? Is that it?"

Alex pulled her legs up onto the bed. He even sounded weird. His voice was a lot deeper. But he still looked strong. Healthy. At least he didn't look like he was going to keel over dead that minute.

"I didn't know what you were," Sam admitted. "I mean, have you seen you? You look like --"

"The old chick in _Titanic_ ," Dean finished through a mouthful of food. "I know. Shut up."

"I was gonna say Emperor Palpatine."

Alex grinned. "I can see that."

Dean glared at both of them, but was saved from responding when the door opened. Bobby rolled through, glancing up at Sam. The door swung closed. "I see you met John McCain there."

"Yeah. Either of you want to tell me what happened?"

"Bobby's an idiot," old Dean snapped. "That's what happened."

"Hey, nobody asked you to play."

"Right, I should have just let you die."

"And for damn sure nobody asked you to lose!"

Sam grinned, looking back at Alex. She was smiling in amusement as well. "It's like _Grumpy Old Men,_ " he joked. Alex laughed.

Bobby and Dean turned in unison to glare at them. "Shut up, Sam."

Dean looked back down at Bobby. "What the hell were you thinking? He's a witch. He's been playing poker since guys wore tights."

"You just don't get it."

"Yeah, I get it, Bobby. You saw a chance to turn the hands of the clock back and get out of that damn chair. Pretty tempting. I can imagine."

"No you can't."

"You got me. I've never been paralyzed." Dean took another bite of his burger. "But I'll tell you something. I've been to hell, and there's an archangel there wanting me to drop the soap. Look at me! My junk's rustier than yours! You hear me bellyaching? Huh?"

"Uh, actually, yeah," Sam agreed.

"This is pretty dramatic," Alex added.

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but instead he exclaimed, "Oh!" He sat down at the table. "I'm having a heart attack."

Alex looked over at him, worried. However, Bobby snorted. "No, you're not."

"What is it?"

"Acid reflux. Guys your age can't digest certain foods. You're gonna need to put down that cheeseburger."

Dean let out a heavy sigh, but dropped the food onto the table.

"So, you want to keep emoting, or do you want to solve this little issue of yours? It's got to be about the chips."

Dean nodded. "I slid 'em across, Patrick did his little witchy number, and you prettied up in a hurry."

"I mean, what are you all thinking? Some kind of magic chips or something?"

"Definitely." Bobby wheeled closer to the table, and Sam sat down.

"Could be a pagan god," Alex suggested. "Maybe one that controls people's years? Father Time?"

Bobby grunted. "More likely to be a witch. Besides, Father Time ain't real."

"Do you remember what he chanted?" Dean asked.

"Yep. Every word."

"All right, then let's find out where he stashes his chips." Sam stood up.

"And steal me fifty. Benjamin Button me back into burger shape. What do you think?"

"I think you out to put some clothes on," Bobby quipped scathingly.

Dean glared at him, but stood up and disappeared into the bathroom. Alex watched Sam dig through his bag. "Am I coming?" she asked quietly.

"Don't see why not." Bobby wheeled over to her. "You and Sam are the only ones in shape."

"I heard that!" they heard Dean yell.

Alex chuckled quietly. "I'll get my jacket."

Dean came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed in his normal clothes. Amazingly, they still fit. There was a knock on the door, and Dean crossed the room to answer it. It was a young woman. She held an armful of towels, and Alex saw a cart behind her. "Ready for housekeeping, sir?" the maid asked.

"Born ready," Dean responded, and Alex knew he was grinning.

The maid let out a cute laugh. "You're just like my grandfather. He hits on anything that moves too." She pushed her way past Dean and into the room.

Dean turned, grin fading.

"You're adorable," the maid added as she went towards the bathroom.

"And dangerous," Dean added quickly.

"Aww." The maid disappeared with a laugh.

Sam smirked. Alex laughed. "Aww, look at you. You _are_ adorable," she told Dean, jumping off the bed.

"Can we just go?"

 

 **T** hey made their way out to the parking lot. Bobby wheeled to a stop next to a large black van, and Alex stopped as she recognized the car. "No. There is no way in hell that _you're_ driving."

"What's wrong with my driving?" Bobby opened the van door. With a grunt, he pulled himself up into the seat with his forearms.

Sam wordlessly folded the wheelchair and stuck it in the back of the van.

"Alright." Bobby looked down at the two Winchesters. "You two up front. Alex, get in the back."

Alex climbed into the open back of the van. "This sound safe," she muttered, looking into the front seat. Bobby released the emergency brake, and pulled the car out of the parking lot.

 

 **T** hey didn't die. Bobby had installed two sticks that allowed him to control both the brakes and the acceleration with ease. He pulled the van up beside a bar, and there they waited in the empty street.

"There." Dean pointed off to his left. Alex perked up. Her eyes came to rest on a man. Sleek black hair, clean suit coat over a white button down, which was open enough to show just a bit of chest. He moved smoothly and confidently out onto the sidewalk. He looked down at his watch as he stepped out on to the street.

The screeching of a car reached Alex's ears, and a sleek black convertible slammed into the man, who was flung to the ground. Alex watched with wide eyes as the driver got out, checking the man hurriedly for injuries. Then he hurried across the street to a construction worker, yelling for help.

A large grin crossed Alex's face as the the man got to his feet. He slid into the driver's seat of the nice convertible, driving off down the road.

Dean let out a loud laugh. "I got to say, I kind of like that guy."

"He's good," Alex admitted. The van jerked slightly as Bobby took off after him.

 

 **F** ifteen minutes later, Bobby parked the van in front of a large skyscraper. They watched as the man -- Patrick, Alex remembered his name -- got out of the car a disappeared into the building. Alex looked up. Statesborough Apartments. She moved towards the door, but a hand on her wrist stopped her. "What?"

"We have to wait for him to leave, dumbass."

"He just got here!"

"And we'll wait for him to leave again."

With a grumbled obscenity, Alex settled down in the back of the van.

 

 **T** hey waited there until four thirty in the morning, each one taking turns watching while the others caught a few hours rest. The back of the van opening woke Alex from her slumber. "Is he gone?" she slurred through the sleep.

"Yeah. Come on." Bobby waited for Sam to pull his wheelchair out of the back of the van before he got out, situating himself. He wheeled off after Dean, leaving Sam and Alex to follow. They hurried into the lobby, where Bobby wheeled to a stop. "Well, I'm out."

On the elevator door was a sign that read, "ELEVATOR OUT OF ORDER. SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE."

Sam looked down at the hunter with a sigh. Then he moved towards the stairwell.

Alex hesitated. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked Bobby.

"I'm paralyzed, not incompetent."

"Alright, alright." Alex hurried after the Winchesters. She quickly overtook Dean; he was only about ten steps up. She followed Sam.

 

 **S** am led the way up at least a thousand flights of stairs, and then finally stopped by room 3701. Alex leaned against the wall, breathing heavy from the physical exertion. She glanced back down the hall from which they had come. "Is Dean gonna make it?" she panted out.

"We'll see." Sam pulled out his lock-picking kit and dropped to one knee.

"How do we know this is the right room?" The girl slid down the wall to the ground. "There's thousands of rooms."

In response, Sam pulled something out of his pocket and dropped in on the ground beside him.

Alex crawled over, leaning against the other wall. She glanced at the slip of paper, then up at Sam to see his face still deep in concentration. "Oh."

"Mm-hmm."

A heavy wheezing came from down the hall, and Alex looked up to see Dean. "Look who made it!"

"Shut up." Dean walked over to them, sweat glistening on his forehead.

The locked clicked open, and Sam pushed the door open. All three crept in. Dean and Sam glanced at each other, nodded, then split up, Sam disappearing through a door. Dean began searching the living room.

Alex watched, unsure. "Can I help?"

"Go see what's in that way." Dean pointed off to his left. Alex nodded and did as he said. She pushed open the oak door and stepped into what appeared to be the bedroom. She took a quick look around before moving towards a bed.

A woman stepped out of the bathroom, and they locked eyes. Alex opened her mouth to yell out a warning, but a hand came down over her mouth.

"Now now, there's no need for that," a thick Irish accent whispered in her ear. "Let's go find your friends, shall we?" A hand trailed down her back, and Alex struggled as fingers locked around the handle of her gun.

The woman stepped past them out of the room, and Alex and the man -- Alex assumed he was the Patrick they had been following -- trailed behind, dropping her gun on the bed.

"It's like Mission: Pathetic," she heard Sam say. She looked over at the Winchesters to see them standing in front of the armoire. Dean was studying a safe, eyes squinted. As she watched, Sam knocked his brother out of the way. In five seconds he had the safe open and reached inside.

"I could have done that," Dean muttered grumpily as Sam pulled out a handful of poker chips.

Alex wanted to warn them, but she knew yelling would be pointless. Thinking quickly, she lifted one foot in the air and stomped hard.

Both Winchesters spun around.

"What are you doing?" the woman asked angrily.

Dean studied her. "Aren't you that chick from the bar?"

"I'm a lot more than that." The woman raised a fist, clenched it, then twisted her wrist. Dean immediately doubled over in pain.

Patrick let go of Alex and placed a hand on he woman's shoulder. "It's alright, sweetheart. It's alright. They're harmless." When the woman didn't let go of her grip on Dean, he added her name. "Lia."

Lia dropped her fist, releasing the Winchester. In that brief moment of distraction, Alex hurried across the room, sliding to a stop next to Sam.

Patrick stepped forward. "You want chips?" he asked, studying the opened safe. "Take 'em. They're just chips, Einsteins. It's showmanship. This may come as a shock, but the magic does not lie in a pile of crappy plywood or in any phony abracadabra. It's the nine hundred year old witch. You guys want years? Score 'em the old-fashioned way. Texas hold 'em." He pulled a toothpick out of his pocket and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on it mindlessly.

"Fine." Dean squared his shoulders. "Let's do it."

The witch pulled a card out of his pocket: an eight of hearts. "What card am I holding up?"

When Dean didn't answer, Alex looked up to see his eyes narrowed in a squint, and she realized that he couldn't see.

"That's what I thought." Patrick shoved the card back into his pocket. "If your eyesight's that bad, what about your memory? I'm not a murderer. You, on the other hand . . ." The witch studied Sam. "I'll play him." When Alex opened her mouth, he cut her off. "Not her. That'd be against the rules."

Dean followed his gaze. "Against the rules?" he repeated. "What? You don't play with kids?"

"I'm almost nineteen, dammit!" Alex snapped.

"Dean." Sam got his brother's attention.

"No, Sam."

"What, Sam not much of a player? Okay, well, happy trails, Dean. Enjoy the twilight of your life. Should have taken better care of that ticker, though." Patrick walked over to the front door and opened it. "You're free to go."

Dean hurried out the door, frowning all the way. Alex and Sam followed.

"Oh, but Sam . . ."

Sam and Dean stopped, turning back.

"You're brother's situation," the witch continued, "that's punishment enough, but I can't let you leave without a small parting gif." He clapped his hands three times.

Sam looked over at Dean, confused. "What are you doing?"

"You'll find out soon enough." He turned his gaze to Alex. "You cross my path again, and you're next."

Dean nudged her towards the stairs. "Let's get out of here."

Alex hurriedly nodded, following the Winchesters down the stairs.

 

 **S** am pushed his way out the front door, Alex close behind. The taller man paused, scratching at his thigh. Dean exited the building, watching his brother as he scratched again. Then Dean grinned. "Dude. I think the he-witch gave you the clap."

Sam stiffened for a second, then marched off, leaving Dean chuckling. Alex ran off to the van.

 

 **B** y the time they got back to their motel, the sun was already up. Bobby parked the car in the lower parking lot, and all four got out. "So you didn't find anything?" the older hunter asked, discouraged.

"Yeah. Those chips are apparently just chips." Sam started walking towards the motel. The path took them under a concrete bridge and up a small incline to the motel. The Winchesters and Alex made it up fine, but a curse from behind had them turning.

"Little help here?" Bobby was stuck, unable to roll his wheelchair up.

Sam and Dean walked over. Sam got there first and pushed Bobby up the rest of the way. Dean walked alongside.

"You know, maybe I should play," Sam said as they reached the top. Bobby took over rolling, and Alex took the spot on the old hunter's flank.

"No no no." Bobby and Alex turned to see that Dean had stopped. Sam turned around as well, confused. "You're not good enough," Dean insisted. "I'm better. Bobby's way better. We both lost."

"Exactly," Bobby agreed, no more happy about it than Dean was.

"So, what? I don't get a say in this anymore?"

"Sammy, when you get to be our age --"

"You're thirty, Dean!" Sam ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

Before Sam could add on, Alex spoke up. "Then I'll play, dammit--"

"No!" All three turned on her before she could even finish.

"You don't even know poker," Bobby added angrily.

"So? I'm the youngest." Alex crossed her arms. "Just hear me out, okay? I take out fifty years, give half to Dean. Yeah, I'll lose the other twenty five, but at least that doesn't put me at eighty like the rest of you!"

The three hunters exchanged glances.

"Look, I've watched you hustle plenty of poker --" Sam started,

"Knowing the game's not enough, Sam," Bobby snapped, and Alex frowned as she realized they never even considered her suggestion. "It's not about playing the cards."

"It's about playing the other guy," Sam finished. "I know that."

"Well hooray for you. All I'm saying is, I played this guy. I know his style. I can take him."

Dena's eyes flashed. "No Bobby. You don't have years in the bank."

"I got enough."

"No. You'll die if you lose, Bobby."

The hunter glared up at Sam. "So what if I do, huh? What exactly am I living for, huh? The damn apocalypse? Watching men diy bloody while I sit in this chair, can't take a step to help 'em?"

"Bobby--"

"No, no. It's the facts. I'm old . . . and broke down . . . and I can't . . ." The old hunter paused, taking a shaky breath. "I ain't a hunter no more. I'm useless. And if I wasn't such as coward, I'd have stuck a gun in my mouth the day I got home from the hospital."

Silence. Alex stared at Bobby in shock and pity. Even without looking, she knew Sam and Dean had on the same expression.

Finally Sam spoke, and his voice as firm. "Bobby, you are not playing again, I'm not letting you do that. There's another way out of this. There's got to be. And I'm gonna find it." With that, he spun around and stalked off.

Alex watched him go. She snapped her mouth shut when she realized it was open before turning back to Dean and Bobby. They were already halfway to the motel. Alex hurried after them.

 

 **D** ean unlocked the door and held it open, letting Bobby roll in. He followed, and Alex reached the door just before it closed. She stepped inside and froze. Out of instinct, her hand went behind her, reaching for her gun before she realized it wasn't there.

Lia sat on the bed. Seeing Alex's motions, she dropped her gun on the bed. Then she held up a piece of paper. "Take it. It'll help you."

Bobby stiffly rolled closer, reaching out to take the paper. "What is it?" he asked suspiciously.

"The most powerful reversal spell you've ever laid your eyes on."

"And it reverses what?" Dean stepped up next to Bobby, watching the woman with wary eyes.

The woman didn't seem to notice. "Patrick's work—all of it."

"You—you saying I could be normal again?"

"You and everyone else he's ever played." Lia caught herself, and added, "Who's still alive."

Dean studied her for a second. "Why the hell should we trust you?" he finally asked.

Lia shrugged. "Trust me, don't trust me. I don't care. The spell is real." She stood up and moved towards the door. Alex quickly moved out of the way. She hurried to the bed and scooped up her gun.

Bobby stopped her with a question. "If it zaps everyone, don't that include your man?"

Lia turned, brown eyes coming to rest on Bobby Singer. "And me, too. I look good for my age."

"Lady, this don't add up for squat." Bobby spun his wheelchair so he was facing her. "Why would you want that?"

"I have my reasons." Lia reached up, and her fingers fiddled with a silver locket around her neck. She looked down at it with a sigh. "Do it quick. We leave town tomorrow." With those words, she left the motel room.

The second the door closed, Dean and Bobby exchanged looks. Bobby unfolded the paper, eyes scanning the words. "Looks authentic," he finally said. "Maybe she's telling the truth."

Dean snorted. "Right. Why would she do that?" He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer.

"Well, it's the best we've got," Alex snapped. "Unless you think me or Sam would be better off playing away our years."

"You are _not_ playing." Dean turned around, pointing his beer at her. He looked over at Bobby. "You sure we want to do this?"

"It's the best thing we got."

Dean studied Bobby for a second, then nodded. "Okay." He crossed over to stand in front of Bobby and took the paper. After a quick look, he said, "I'll call Sam. He couldn't have gotten too far. Then me and him will go get these things." He shoved the spell into his pocket. "You too stay here."

"Dean--"

"I'm serious. Stay." Dean pulled out his phone, grabbed the Impala's keys, and walked out.

Alex watched him go, lips pursed in frustration. She turned to see Bobby staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing." Bobby rolled over to the fridge. "How are those two treating you?"

Alex rolled her eyes at the question. "I'm _fine_ ," she promised. "Seriously. Sam and I are even getting alone."

"I noticed." Bobby pulled a bottle of whiskey, turning back to Alex.

Alex knew that look. "No."

"You sure? You two are pretty friendly. "

"Dude, gross." Alex made a face. "They . . . They're like my brothers, and fathers, and best friends, and," she paused, "I guess my boyfriends, but in the most platonic way possible, alright? Any flirting is purely through familiarity. I mean I love them, but I don't love love them." She stopped, realizing she rambling. When Bobby didn't immediately respond, she quickly added, "Cas included. They're not going to hurt me alright? Besides, I can take care of myself. "

"Keep telling yourself that, princess." Bobby rolled over to the tv and flicked it on. "Just make sure they keep their hands off of you."

"Would it make you feel any better if I told you I was gay?"

Bobby studied her for barely a second before dismissing the thought. "You're not gay. I've seen the way you look at Charlie."

Alex smiled. Charlie Heyward. Dude was an Adonis. "Charlie is hot," she agreed.

Bobby continued. "And you can barely stand talking to girls. You'd die if you had to actually date one."

"Alright, alright. I'm not gay. Fine. If you want to worry yourself to death over my love life; it's your funeral."

The hunter just grunted, turning back to the tv. With a sigh, Alex resigned herself to Dean's laptop.

 

 **S** am and Dean returned two hours later. Dean dropped a plastic shopping bag on the table. "Got everything we could," he announced.

"Are we sure this spell's going to work?" Sam asked Bobby.

"No idea. Hopefully." Bobby wheeled his way over to them. "What are we missing?"

"Just the fucker's DNA." Dean watched as Bobby put the whiskey bottle on the table, now half empty. He frowned.

"And we're going to do that how?" Bobby looked skeptically up at the Winchester.

"I'm going to play."

"Like hell you are."

"We need the distraction, alright?" Sam glared at Bobby. "And what does it matter if I lose? We're going to reverse it anyways."

"If it even works," Bobby shot back.

"Hey hey hey." Dean got in between the two hunters. "He's doing it, okay?" He pawed through the shopping bag. "There's one other thing we need. Jawbone of a murderer." He looked at Bobby. "We're going to have to dig this up."

"I'll go with Sam," Alex voted.

"Hell no!" Bobby turned on her.

"Why not? We don't know how much time we need! Maybe one game isn't enough!"

"There's no point," Dean snapped. "He's already made it clear that he won't play with you."

"And why not? How am I any different than anyone else he's played? He's just fucking with us, Dean."

"Maybe she's right. I think she should come," Sam suggested quietly. "I mean, you can handle digging one grave on your own, right?"

Dean glared at his brother, then at Alex, then blinked. "Fine. If that's what you want to do."

"That's what I want to do."

"You can't be serious." Bobby stared up at Dean. "I don't think she's ever played poker in her life."" He looked at Alex. "Do you even know the rules?" When Alex didn't answer, he turned to Dean. "You're just going to let her walk into this blind?"

"I know enough," Alex snapped. "And I have time to learn."

"But not enough to beat him." Bobby looked up at Dean for support.

Alex continued. "What does it even matter? We're gonna reverse the spell anyways!"

"Bobby." Dean put a hand on the hunter's shoulder. "Let her go."

Bobby grumbled something under his breath, eyes darkening.

Sam took Alex by the shoulder. "Come on. I'll teach you how to play."

 

 **T** hat night, Alex followed Sam down below Emmits' Pub. They entered a dark room. Two men were seated around a poker table; Patrick was the once facing them. An old man sat with his back to them. He was hunched over, and even from there Alex could tell he was nervous. On the table she could barely make out five cards: two red face cards, and the other three were black. There was a large pot of chips off to the side.

Alex heard the clink of chips as the old man tossed a few in. Patrick hesitated, glancing at his cards, then looked up at the man, chewing on his toothpick. "I sense you've got me by the jewels on this one, Hesh. I fold." The old man hurriedly pulled the chips near to him while Patrick continued. "What are you up -- like thirteen years there, Hesh? What do you say we call it a day?"

The man called Hesh let out a small chuckle. "Thanks, Patrick."

Patrick looked up at Sam and Alex. "Hesh here is gonna live to see his granddaughter's bat mitzvah. Isn't that right, Hesh?"

Hesh looked over his shoulder, surprised to see the newcomers. He turned back to the Irishman. "Thanks again, Patrick."

Patrick leaned back in his chair. "Shalom, my friend. Shalom."

Hesh got up and left, walking past Alex. She watched him go curiously. The sound of shuffling cards drew her attention back.

"That was nice of you." Sam approached.

Patrick shrugged. "I'm a nice guy. What can I do for you?"

Alex stepped forward. "We want to play."

"Ah ah ah." The Irishman leaned back, studying the girl. "It wouldn't be fair playing you."

The frustrated girl crossed her arms. "Why not? Because I'm a girl?"

The witch shook his head, slightly amused. "I'll play any human. Man, woman, doesn't matter to me. But I won't play you. I will, however, play you." Patrick motioned at Sam with his toothpick before placing it back into his mouth.

Sam sat down at the table, eyes cold. "Deal."

The Irishman smirked. "Very well." He slid a handful of chips over to Sam. "Twenty five years."

Sam nodded.

With a flick of the wrist, two cards lay in front of each man. "Blinds."

Sam tossed a chip into the center to meet the small blind. Patrick doubled it to meet the big blind.

Alex plopped down in a chair to watch.

 

 **H** alf an hour had passed. Alex was watching the game, elbows on the table, head in her hands. She looked up at Patrick; he was still chewing on that toothpick, watching Sam in amusement. A glass of whiskey sat to his left, and his stack of chips to his right.

Alex glanced over at Sam. His pile was quite a bit smaller, and his hazel eyes were studying his two cards with the same intensity as he often times showed while researching deities.

On the table between them lay five cards; a four of diamonds, a seven of clubs, three of hearts, a two of clubs, and a queen of hearts. The girl blinked, running through the possibilities, as she always did when the cards were laid out. The best cards to hold would be an ace and a five.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by Patrick's voice. "I like you, Sam. I do." The Irish witch motioned to Sam with his toothpick, which he now held in his right hand. "You're smart, and your heart's clearly in the right place."

Sam didn't answer. He didn't even look up.

Patrick threw his toothpick down on the table and picked up his whiskey, taking a long drink. "I can tell a lot about a guy by looking."

"You mean you're psychic."

The witch shook his head, a small laugh sounding at the back of his throat. "No. That'd be cheating. I'm talking about good old-fashioned intuition."

Sam nodded, only half caring. "Right. Let's just play."

Patrick took another long drink. "We are playing." He put his glass down next to his toothpick. "Does your big brother know you're here?"

Sam didn't answer. "Bet five." He picked up five chips and dropped them in the pile.

The witch looked over at Alex. She glanced up at him. "He thinks we're at a bar," she mumbled.

"Technically you are." The witch took a stack of five, dropped it upon another stack of five, and dropped it on the pile, turning his attention back to Sam. "I raise. Here you are, right? Trying to clean up their mess, and they still want to sit you at the kiddie table."

Sam looked down, studying his cards.

The Irishman played mindlessly with a few of his chips. "You're not the little brother anymore, Sam." Sam looked up, and Patrick continued. "Then again, maybe you are." The witch picked up his toothpick, using it to gesture. "You're in over your head here, Sam. I mean, you can keep making these moves — you know, playing it cautious, playing the percentages. But I'm still gonna kick your ass into the nursing home."

"Does this armchair-psychology routine usually work for you?"

Patrick laughed. "You tell me. You're the one who's losing." He stick his toothpick back into his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue. He motioned to the raised bet. "Now. What's it going to be?"

Sam folded.

 

 **I** t was ten minutes later. Three rounds had been played, and Sam had only won one. The witch had folded, and Alex suspected he was purposefully drawing out the game.

Patrick shuffled the deck with ease, eyes watching Sam. He had somewhere around thirty five chips, while Sam had approximately fifteen. The hunter rolled a chip between two large fingers, then looked over at Alex. "You okay?"

Alex smiled. "I'm fine." She pulled out her phone and looked down at the clock. "I might leave if I can't play," she added pointedly.

Patrick chuckled quietly. "I'm not going to change my mind." He looked up as the click of heels signaled the approach of a woman. Alex glanced over her shoulder to see Lia enter. She walked over to Patrick, and the witch put his toothpick down on the table as the woman leaned down to kiss him. He pulled back and looked over at Sam and Alex with a wink. "Little break?"

Sam nodded. He stood up, and the table jolted. The hunter reached out as the whiskey glass tipped, catching it before it fell. "Sorry," he apologized. Then he hurried away. Alex followed.

As they went up the stairs, Sam burst into a run. He threw open the doors and stopped in the dark night air. He had halted to suddenly that Alex almost careened into his broad back. "Sam!"

"How's it going in there?" Alex recognized old Dean's voice, and she stepped sideways so she could see him.

"How do you think it's going?" Sam snapped. "What about you? You have everything you need?"

"We still need a little he-witch DNA."

Sam held up the toothpick. "He was chewing on it." When Dean took it, he added, "Hurry up, Dean. Please."

"All right. Just keep him busy. And, Sammy . . . don't lose."

Sam nodded, and turned to go back inside. "You . . . you can stay here," he told Alex.

"Thanks." Alex nodded, stepping aside to let the hunter past.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked, concern lacing his voice.

Alex harrumphed. "He still won't play me."

"Maybe that's for the best." Dean turned and started back down the alley. Alex followed.

Bobby was sitting in his wheelchair in the back of the van. "What's she doing here?"

"He won't let her play." Dean waved the toothpick. "But we got what we need."

"Then we got everything." Bobby lit a match and dropped it in a bowl. Flames jumped up, and the old hunter pulled out a piece of paper. " _Airmidh mi air maponus, dia na hogalachd. Gairmidh mi air sucellus dia na time._ "

Dean picked up a handful of powder, and dropped it in the flames. With a whoosh, they flared up in blue.

Bobby continued with the spell. " _Till an-drasda obair uile gu bheilair a bhith deanta. Mar sin bitheadh._ " He nodded at Dean. "Drop it in."

Dean obediently dropped the toothpick into the flames. He paused for a second, then asked, "Well? How do I look?"

Alex frowned. He looked exactly the same. She and Bobby exchanged looks. "You look the same," she finally said.

Dean turned to her, and his eyes flashed in confusion and anger. He looked down at his wrinkled hands. "Son of a bitch."

"Great. It didn't work." Alex jumped up into the van. "Now what? Maybe the toothpick wasn't enough."

"Or the spell's crap." Dean turned away in disgust. "Dammit."

"We should go back to his place," Alex insisted. "Maybe we need something more!"

"And what if we don't?"

"Then Sam dies!" Alex's eyes grew wide. "Come on, Dean. This is our only shot. He's not going to win. You know that."

Dean hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."

Bobby wheeled closer to the front seat, then, with surprising strength, pulled himself out of his chair and over the front seat by his arms. He did however, land awkwardly on the seat with a loud curse.

"Was that really necessary?" Alex worriedly looked down at the older hunter.

Bobby righted himself with a huff. "I'm driving."

"You could have just asked for help." As soon as those words were out, Alex regretted it. This was Bobby Singer; he'd never ask for help.

Dean got into the front seat. "Just drive."

 

 **"I** don't get it." Bobby looked over at Dean. "Everything we put in that spell was kosher."

"Yeah, everything except the damn toothpick."

"He probably switched toothpicks." Alex leaned over the seat. "I wouldn't put it past him. He's clever."

Bobby pulled the van up alongside the hotel. "You got to go get a speck of DNA," he told Dean. "Strap on your track shoes."

"Oh, goody. More stairs." Dean opened the van door and got out. Alex followed.

 

 **S** he once again beat him up the stairs. There she waited beside room 3701. A few minutes later, Dean appeared, wheezing. Despite the situation, Alex smiled. "Dude. Old age sucks."

She didn't catch exactly all of what Dean mumbled but she was pretty sure she heard the phrase, "you're a bitch." She grinned, kneeling down to pick the lock.

"Hurry up," Dean grumbled.

"At least I can see the lock," Alex shot back. She pulled the rake one more time, and the lock clicked open. "There."

Dean opened the door and they slipped inside. "See what you can find," he said, pointing off towards the bedroom.

Alex did as she was told. First she checked the bathroom. Nothing. Not even a damn hair on a comb. She jumped when she heard the ringing of a phone. It cut off as Alex recognized it as Dean's cell.

"It's too damn clean in here," she heard Dean say. "First witch I ever heard of didn't spew bodily fluids all over the place." He paused, and Alex quickly deduced that he was speaking to Bobby. Who else could it be? She resigned herself to looking around the bed.

"Sam . . ." _Thump._

Alex looked up in alarm. "Dean?"

No answer.

Alex drew her gun and crept to the door, peering out. She dropped her weapon. "Dean!"

The hunter lay on the ground, barely conscious. His jaw was slack, eyes wide. Alex ran across the room and dropped by her friend's side. "Dean!" She pushed two fingers against his neck, trying to find a pulse. Then she placed a hand over his chest. Still feeling nothing, she slid her hand under his shirt. There. But it was weak.

"Sam." Dean gasped out his brother's name.

"It's okay." Alex pulled her hand out of his shirt and placed both on his chest. "You're going to be okay."

"Dean? Dean? Are you there?" Bobby's voice came faintly through the dropped phone. "Alex? What's going on?"

Alex pushed sharply on his chest with the heel of her hands, trying to keep his heart beating. "Live, dammit." Her voice cracked as she kept pushing down on his chest.

Dean's eyes rolled into the back of his head, breathing tapering off.

Alex kept trying, trying to bring him back into consciousness. Tears filled her eyes until she couldn't see anymore. She couldn't lose him. Not again.

She heard a loud inhale and she stopped. She blinked, looking down to see Dean laying there. He looked thirty years old. "That hurts."

Alex dropped onto his chest, trying to control her emotions, her whole body trembling with relief. "I thought you w-were dead."

"When have I ever stayed dead?"

Alex thumped him on the chest in mock anger. Dean put a hand on her back. "Are you okay?" His voice grew genuinely worried.

Alex didn't move for a second, then raised her head. "I'm okay." She wiped her eyes.

"I hope you don't cry this much when I die for good."

"I hate you." Alex stood up. "Come on. You're back to normal, which means something happened."

Dean looked at his hands, then scrambled to his feet. He glanced in a mirror and grinned, running a hand down his face.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Come on, Narkissos. Let's go find Bobby."

Dean beat her down the stairs, but only by a few seconds. He walked out the front door, and Alex watched as he jumped up, clicking his heels together in midair. Alex followed him out, smiling. She couldn't blame Dean for being happy.

Dean jumped into the front seat of the van, and Alex climbed in back. "Notice anything?" Dean asked smugly.

"I see you got your years back." Bobby's voice held a tinge of envy. "What happened in there?"

"Dean almost died." Alex's voice cracked slightly. "His heart gave out."

"I don't remember much myself," the hunter admitted. "I was on the ground, and Alex had her hand up my shirt-"

"I was looking for your pulse." Alex smacked him lightly on the head.

"Then when I came to, someone was punching my chest."

"They're called chest compressions, and I was saving your life."

"Speaking of, we didn't finish the spell."

"Which means either someone else did, or Sam actually won." As she spoke, the phone in her left pocket vibrated. She whipped it out, and opened the chat with Sam Winchester. "Speaking of, Sam's alive, and wants to know if you're alive."

Dean looked back, then grabbed the phone out of her hands. "That's mine." He immediately called his brother. "Sam? Yeah, I'm okay." Pause. "No, no. That's great. Uh. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, you do that." He hung up. "Sam'll be back at the motel in a few hours. He thinks it's a good idea to get a couple drinks first. Speaking of . . ."

"If you're going out, can you drop me off at the motel? I'm really tired." As if to prove her point, her jaw stretched open in a yawn.

"Sure thing, princess." Bobby turned the van off of the highway.

 

 **A** lex unlocked the motel door and stepped inside. " 'M fucking tired," she mumbled to herself. Too tired to even bother changing, Alex collapsed on the nearest bed. She swore she heard a flutter of wings, but didn't move. "No, Cas. Go away."

She wasn't bothered.

 

 **"N** o tricks -- you actually beat the guy?"

Alex jolted awake at the sound of Bobby's voice. She sat up to see Sam and Bobby by the table. How had she slept through them coming in?

She watched as Sam spread his arms in smug victory.

"How the hell?"

The tall hunter smirked. "Just got lucky." Seeing that Alex was now awake, he shot her a smile. "Morning, Pip."

Alex tossed back the covers. "Hey, Sam." She smiled in relief. "Sounds like I missed a lot."

Sam nodded. Then he moved towards the door just Dean stepped in, a large burger in hand. The young hunter grabbed his jacket. "Hey. I'll see y'all guys later."

Dean turned. "Where you going?"

"Uh . . . . mm, nowhere."

"Well, wherever you're going, take Pip with you." Dean turned to look at Alex. She frowned, but by the look in his eyes, she knew he wanted a few minutes alone with Bobby.

She obediently got out of bed. "Can I at least change?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Sam started.

"No, and yes." Dean pointed to each of them in turn. "Go."

Alex threw on her shoes and hurried after Sam, grabbing Dean's heavy leather jacket on the way out. She pulled it on over her rumpled black t-shirt. "Where are we going?"

Sam looked flustered. "A . . . a booster shot, alright?" He hurried out to the Impala. "Don't say it."

Alex hurried after him. "I wasn't going to say anything. Who am I, your brother?" She slid into the front seat. "Tell you what. You can just drop me off at like, a store or something for a while if you want." She smiled innocently. "Unless you're scared of needles. I can hold your hand."

Sam started the car, pulling out into the street. "You're not funny."

"No, but I'm adorable." Alex leaned against the door, and placed her feet on Sam's thighs, careful enough to avoid his lap.

The hunter startled. "C-Can you not?"

"Tell me I'm adorable." Alex refused to move. "Admit it."

"Okay, okay. You're adorable. Move!"

Alex pulled her legs back and returned them to her side. "There. That wasn't so bad."

"I'm going to throw you in a lake."


	35. Changing Channels

**January 15th, 2010**

**Wellington, Ohio**

**A** lex rolled out of the car. "Never doing that again."

Sam laughed. "That's what you say every time."

"This time I'm serious," the young woman protested. "If I have to get back into that car _one_ more time, I'll die." They had driven straight from Trinidad all the way to Wellington, Ohio, with the only breaks being for eating and filling up on gas. Twenty one hours in the car, and Alex had hated every minute.

"It's not that bad." Dean got out as well, closing the door behind him. "Zep is awesome."

"Yeah, the first eight times," Alex shot back.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Get the stuff out of the trunk," he instructed her before tossing her the keys and ambling off towards their motel room. Alex complied, slinging both hers and Dean's duffle bags around her shoulder. Sam took his, and silently led her into the room. Alex dropped the bags on the floor.

"So, we gonna check this out?" Dean was asking Sam.

"Yeah. Just give me a few minutes." Sam waled back out the door. Alex watched him leave, confused. She shrugged it off and sat down on one of the beds, kicking off her shoes, looking around the room. The walls were covered in a faded green-and-yellow flowery wallpaper, and a small television sat in the corner. Dean went into the bathroom to change into his suit and tie, and afterwards sat down on the other bed and flicked it on. After flipping through several channels, he stopped.

As soon as she recognized the show, Alex rolled her eyes. "Please no," she begged. "How can you even think of watching this show?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked good-naturedly.

"It's like a chick-flick," Alex protested. "What happened to no chick-flicks?"

" _Dr. Sexy MD_ is _not_ a chick-flick," Dean said stubbornly. "If you don't want to watch it, go away."

Alex rolled her eyes once more. She picked up a book from her bag and started reading. After a few minutes she glanced at Dean out of the corner of her eye. He was leaning forward, entranced at the show before him.

The door opened, and both Dean and Alex looked up. Sam made his way over to them. "What are you watching?"

"Some hospital show," Dean responded, returning his gaze to the flickering screen. " _Dr. Sexy MD_. I think it based on a book."

Sam glanced at the tv. "When did you hit menopause?" he joked. Alex let out a quiet laugh.

"It's called channel surfing," the older brother defended himself. He stood up, turning off the tv. "You ready?"

Sam nodded, slipping on his suit jacket. "Are you?"

Alex tossed Dean the keys. "Can I come?"

"You want to come?" Dean asked her.

Alex paused, thinking. "Nah. I'm not getting back into the car." She watched them leave. "Adios."

Dean flashed her a smile before closing the door behind him. After a few seconds Alex heard the familiar sound of the Impala purr to life and drive away. Alex stood up and turned back on the tv. _Dr. Sexy MD_ came back on. She wrinkled her nose and quickly changed the channel. She didn't like that show at all.

She turned on some good background noise before returning to her spot on the bed. She reached down and took out Dean's laptop, easily logging on. Dean never really bothered to change his password, and when he did, it wasn't long before she guessed it. One webpage popped up. It was the newspaper article from _The Wellington Guardian_. About a man who had had his head completely ripped off. That was why they were here. She scanned the article, then closed the laptop. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since that morning. She picked up her tennis shoes, slipped them back on her feet, and began to tie the laces. A flutter of wings caught her attention. She looked up.

"Alex." Castiel stood in front of her.

"Cas," Alex acknowledged him warmly. "Uh, hey. What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you call for me?" The angel looked slightly confused.

"Uh . . no." Alex looked up at him.

"Do you need help?" he persisted.

Alex laughed. "Cas, I'm just tying my shoes. And if I ever needed help with it, you'd be the last person I'd call."

The angel sat down on the bed next to her. "Where's Sam and Dean?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"They went down to the Wellington police station. We found a new case, so . . ." She ended with a shrug.

"And what are you doing?"

"Well, I was going to go find some food," Alex admitted. "That's it." She stood up. "You're welcome to join me," she added, figuring he'd never take her up on her offer.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Alex looked astonished. "Well, uh, we're going to have to walk."

"Okay." Castiel stood up and walked over to her.

Alex was too surprised to answer. "Okay," she echoed. She grabbed some money out of Sam's bag along with the keys to the motel, and led the way outside. She led Castiel down the street to a small diner a few hundred yards away from the motel.

"It would have been faster to fly," Castiel pointed out.

"Shut up and enjoy the scenery," Alex shot back humorously. They quickly arrived at the diner, and Alex led them over to a booth. Castiel sat across from her, hands in his lap. The waitress took their order, and speedily brought Alex her food. "So what brings you around?" Alex asked, taking a bite of her hamburger.

"I told you. I thought you called me," Castiel said politely.

"How's your hearing, then?" Alex joked. "You don't come when I do call, and you show up when I don't."

"My apologizes."

Alex shook her head. "It's fine." She stared at him. "You combed your hair." It was laying neatly instead of the usual mess of soft black hair.

Castiel looked up as if he could see it. "Yes, I did."

Alex smiled. She didn't like it. "Come here." She leaned closer. Castiel blinked. "Lean forward," Alex repeated.

Castiel did so, and his face flushed, something very unusual. Alex wondered what was going through his head. He placed his hands on the table, and Alex placed one of hers on his, using it to lean forward. Castiel closed his eyes, and Alex laughed. She ran her other hand through his hair, messing it up. "There," she smiled. "I like it better like that."

Castiel opened his eyes, confused. "Really?"

"Yeah." Alex smiled. "It makes you look more fun. And less intimidating."

"Oh. Thank you." Castiel leaned back in his seat. He removed his hand from under hers. Alex smiled once again.

 

 **C** astiel flew her back to the Day-Z motel, not wanting to walk. Then he disappeared. "Nice to see you, too," Alex called out. She turned to see Dean sitting at the table in the kitchen. "Oh, hey."

"Where've you been?" Dean looked more curious than mad.

"I went out for lunch. I guess Cas decided to join me."

"Hm." Dean turned back to his laptop.

The door opened and Sam came in. "Hey."

"Find anything?"

"Well, uh, I saw the house." Sam began.

"And?"

"And there is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the wall use to be. Almost like, uh . . ."

"A hulk-sized hole," Dean finished.

"Huh?" Alex sat down the table beside him. "Hulk-sized?"

"Yeah. We interviewed the wife of Mr. Randolph and she claims to have seen the Incredible Hulk rip the head off of her husband."

"The Incredible Hulk?" Alex looked from Sam to Dean. "Bana or Norton?"

Dean glanced over at her. "Ferrigno."

"Ferrigno?" Alex narrowed her eyes. "You mean . . ." She motioned like she had spiky hair.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Ferrigno."

Sam interrupted them. "What'd you find?"

Dean turned back to his laptop. "Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper. He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions. You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry."

Alex let out a huff.

"So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead. Sounds like just desserts, huh?" Sam asked slowly.

Dean let out a quiet snort.

"It's all starting to make sense," Sam continued. Alex let out a breath.

"How's it starting to make sense?" Dean looked from Alex to Sam.

"Well, I found something else at the crime scene." Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of candy wrappers. "Candy wrappers. And lots of them." He dropped them on the table.

"Trickster," Alex said quietly.

"Sure looks like it," Sam nodded.

"Good. I've been wanting to gank that monster since the Mystery Spot."

"You sure?"

"Yah I'm sure." Dean looked up at his brother.

"No, I mean are you sure you want to kill him?" Sam rephrased his question.

"Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me a thousand times." Dean said surely. Alex let out a small laugh at the memory. "It wasn't funny."

"Whatever you say." Alex shrugged.

"No, I know. I'm just saying . . ."

"What are you saying? If you don't want to kill him, then what?"

"Talk to him?" Sam offered slowly.

Dean paused. "What?"

"Think about it, Dean." Sam persisted. "He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him."

"For what?" Dean looked slightly interested.

"Okay. Tricksters's like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, woman, song -- maybe he doesn't want the party to end," Sam explained. Alex smiled at those words. "Maybe he hates this angel and demon crap as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us out."

"You're serious." Dean looked skeptical.

"Yeah."

"Ally with the Trickster."

"Yeah."

"A bloody, violent monster and you want to be Facebook friends with him?" Dean let out a small laugh. "Nice, Sammy."

"The world is going to end, Dean. We don't have the luxury of a moral stand. Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work, we'll kill him."

"I'm in," Alex nodded. "It is worth a shot," she added when Dean glared at her. "But good luck killing him. Hasn't worked yet."

Dean let out a sigh. "Fine. How we find this guy, anyways?"

"Well, he never takes just one victim, right? He'll show."

Dean nodded. "Alex." He turned to her and tossed her the keys to the car. "Stakes. Now."

Alex nodded, and ran out to the Impala. She opened the trunk, propped open the false bottom, and grabbed two wooden stakes. She figured she wouldn't need one of her own, having a pretty good idea of what was going to go down.

Back in the motel room, she handed one to Sam and one to Dean. Dean glanced at her. "Only two? Don't you need one?"

"We're not going there to kill him," Alex reminded him gently. "And I think we'll be fine with only two."

Dean shrugged, but didn't argue. Instead, he took out his knife and started sharpening the stake. Sam had a pulled out a small police scanner and had set it on the table. He sat down next to it, watching it carefully.

"Oh, by the way." Alex looked over at Dean. "You owe me twenty bucks."

"What?" Dean squinted in confusion.

"Sam cried uncle. We had a bet," she explained, seeing Sam's confused face. "About how uncomfortable I could make you and if you'd fold." She glanced at the older Winchester. "He gave you two weeks, I said less than."

Sam opened his mouth, then narrowed his eyes. "You're a jerk."

"I like money." Alex reached over to where Dean was holding out a twenty dollar bill. "You know me, Sammy. I don't have personal space." When no one responded, Alex sat back down on the bed and resumed her book.

 

After a few minutes, the scanner crackled to life. "Um, Dispatch? I, I got a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on Route 6?"

Sam sat up. "Hey." Dean looked up as well.

"Roger that," the scanner crackled again. "What are you looking at there, son?"

"Honestly, Walt, I, I wouldn't even know how to describe what I'm seeing. Just send everybody."

At that, everyone in the room perked up. Alex shot a glance at the two brothers.

"All right, stay calm, stay by your car," the dispatcher said. "Help's on the way."

Sam turned the scanner off.

"That sounds weird." Dean admitted.

"Weird enough to be our guy," Sam agreed, standing up. "Let's go."

Alex stood up, grabbing a jacket out of her bag. "Okay." She followed them out the door.

 

 **T** he arrived at the paper mill within five minutes. Dean parked the car, and they all got out. Alex looked around. The mill was completely abandoned. Sam rounded the car to stand beside Dean. "There was a murder here, and there's no police cars. There's nobody. How's that look to you?" Dean asked quietly.

"Crappy," Sam replied. Alex nodded in agreement.

Dean walked over to the trunk. He pulled out three flashlights, handing one to Sam, one to Alex, and keeping one for himself, then handed Sam a wooden stake. He took one for himself before closing the trunk. "Let's go." He led them into the paper mill.

 

 **T** he next second, Alex was blinded by a bright light. She squinted, and her surroundings came into focus.

"What the hell?" Dean exclaimed. Alex looked over at him to see both him and Sam wearing white lab coats. Looking down, she realized she was in scrubs as well. She furrowed her brow in confusion, looking around her. Soft music played above her heads.

A blonde doctor passed by them followed by another nurse. "Doctor," she acknowledge them.

"Doctor." The other woman dipped her head at them as well.

"Doctor?" Sam echoed. Alex heard the door behind them open, and she turned around to see Dean looking into the closet they obviously had just come through. Dean closed the door.

"What the hell?" Alex mouthed to him. Dean shrugged, a hint of fear across his face.

"Doctor." Alex turned around to see a short brunette approach them. She reached up and slapped Sam across the face.

"Ow!" he exclaimed.

"Seriously," the doctor said.

"What?" Sam shot a confused look at Dean.

"Seriously?" The woman searched Sam's face with her brown eyes. "You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. A brilliant coward."

"Um, what . . . what are you talking about?" Sam asked her.

She slapped him again. "As if you don't know!" she exclaimed in a passionate way. Then she walked off. Sam stood there, shocked. Alex stifled a laugh.

"I don't believe this." Dean stepped forward, his face filled with an emotion Alex couldn't identify.

"What?" Sam asked.

"That's Dr. Ellen Piccolo," Dean breathed. "The sexy yet ernest doctor at . . . Seattle Mercy Hospital." He turned to see the large sign above the nearby reception desk.

"Oh no." Alex put her head in her hands.

"Dean." Sam stepped forward as well. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The doctor getup. The, the sexy interns. The 'seriously's'. " Dean turned to face them, eyes sparkling. "It all makes sense."

Sam shot a quick glance at Alex. "What makes sense? What's going on?"

"We're in _Dr. Sexy MD_."

Sam looked confused. Alex groaned quietly. "Please. Any place but this."

Dean took off down the corridors. Sam and Alex exchanged a glance, then followed. "Dude, what the hell." Dean glanced back at them.

"I don't know," Sam admitted.

"No seriously. What the hell."

Sam sped up to walk beside his brother. "I don't know," he repeated.

"One theory. Any theory." Dean glanced back at Alex.

"Uh, the Trickster trapped us in TV Land," Sam guessed.

"That's you theory? That's stupid," Dean retorted. "Alex?"

"Uh, the Trickster trapped us in TV Land," Alex admitted.

"I told you. That's a stupid theory," Dean repeated.

"But it's a true theory," Alex shot back.

"You're the one who said we were in _Dr. Sexy MD_ ," Sam reminded him.

"Yeah, but TV Land isn't TV Land," Dean argued. "I mean, there's actors and lights and crew members and stuff. This looks real."

"Cause it is real?" Alex offered.

"It can't be. How can this be possibly real?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know."

Alex snorted. "And welcome to my world."

A woman passed them. "Doctors." She dipped her head in greeting.

"There goes Dr. Wang, the sexy but arrogant heart surgeon," Dean whispered. They turned a corner next to a man sitting on a gurney.

"And there's Jonny Drake. Oh, he's not even alive. He's a ghost in the mind of . . . of her," Dean whispered, enamored at the sight of a skinny brunette dressed in scrubs. "The sexy, yet neurotic doctor over there."

Alex let out a huff at his knowledge of such a stupid show. "And here we have the Dr. Winchester, the sexy but utterly psychotic doctor and brother of the other sexy and utterly psychotic doctor." The two brother's reactions were completely different. Sam glared at her; Dean was too interested in their surroundings to really care.

"So this show has ghosts?" Sam asked. "Why?"

"I don't know. But it's compelling."

"I thought you said you weren't a fan."

"I'm not."

Alex let out a snort.

"I'm not!" he insisted, but stopped short. "Oh boy," he breathed.

"What?"

"It's him."

"Who?" Alex looked down the hall to see a tall man make his way down the hall. Long brown, wavy hair fell slightly above his shoulders, moving as he walked.

"It's him. Dr. Sexy," Dean gasped. Alex noted he looked like a child on Christmas, and couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Dr. Sexy stopped in front of them. He looked at Dean. "Doctor," he said politely.

Dean studied the ground, trying to hide his broad smile. "Doctor."

"Doctor." Dr. Sexy turned to Sam.

Sam didn't reply until Dean elbowed him. "Doctor," he replied curtly.

"Doctor." He then turned to Alex, stepping forward towards her.

Alex refused to back down. She met his gaze confidently. "Doctor," she repeated dryly, dipping her head slightly.

Dr. Sexy turned back to Dean. "You want to give me one good reason you defied by direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Biehl?"

Dean looked up, confused. He glanced at Alex, who shrugged. "One reason?" he stammered. The doctor nodded. Dean let out a breath. "Sure." His gaze dropped back to the floor. Suddenly, Dean slammed him against the wall. "You're not Dr. Sexy," he said angrily. Both Sam and Alex jumped, and exchanged glances.

"You're crazy!" the doctor exclaimed.

"Really?" Dean challenged. "Because I swore part of what made Dr. Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes."

Alex glanced down to see white tennis shoes on the doctor's feet. "Yeah," she said sarcastically. "Not a fan, eh?"

Dean looked slightly embarrassed. "It's a guilty pleasure."

"You're pathetic."

"Call security," Dr. Sexy called out.

Dean turned his attention back to the man he had pinned against he wall. "Yeah, go ahead pal, you do that. We know who you are."

Suddenly everyone around them froze. Alex snapped her eyes back to Dr. Sexy, who quickly morphed into who Alex recognized to be the Trickster. Memories from the show flooded back to her. _Gabriel_. The name flickered across her mind.

"You guys are getting better." The Trickster let out a broad smile.

"Get us the hell out of here," Dean ordered.

The Trickster looked surprised, glancing around mockingly. "Or what?" he challenged, grabbing Dean's arm, twisting slightly, and Dean winced, backing up. "Don't say you have wooden stakes, big guy."

"That was you on the police scanner, right?" Sam guessed."This is a trick."

"Hello? Trickster." The Trickster motioned to his face. "Come on! I heard you two yahoos were in town. How could I resist?" He put his arms down by his sides, and Alex let out a laugh, drawing his attention to her.

"Something funny?" he asked.

"It's nothing," Alex promised. "Although your lab coat is a little long for your arms."

The Trickster looked down. "Is that a problem?"

Alex shook her head. "No, but it's adorable."

She ignored Sam's shock. "Adorable?" he stuttered out.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I mean, come on. His brothers are all big and tough, and then there's -- him." She motioned to the Trickster, but was talking about the Gabriel side of him.

The short man looked her up and down. "I don't believe we met." He ignored her last comment.

"Hm." Alex gave no answer.

"So what's your name, eh?" He approached her, ignoring Sam and Dean.

"Alex," Alex said curtly.

"No it's not," the man said matter-of-factly. Both Sam and Dean glanced at him, confusion written across their faces. Alex raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue. The Trickster looked around. "Oh come on!" he exclaimed. "You mean you actually don't know?" He let out a laugh.

"What's he talking about?" Sam whispered to Alex.

"Nothing," she replied.

"They really don't know?" Surprise flickered across his face, followed by a broad smile. "This might be funner than I thought."

Impatience passed through Alex. "Tell you what." She crossed her arms. "You tell them my real name if I can tell them yours." Shock flashed in the Trickster's eyes, but it was gone so fast Alex thought she imagined it. She felt more confident. "Now who's secret is bigger, hmm?"

The Trickster laughed. "You're bluffing," he told her. "But I like you." He turned back to Dean.

"Where the hell are we?" Dean asked him.

"You like it?" The Trickster grinned. "It's all homemade." He rapped his knuckles on the wall. "My own sets, my own actors," He motioned to the frozen people around them, "Call it my own idiot box."

"How do we get out?" Dean asked. Sam stepped forward to stand beside his brother.

The Trickster stepped forward as well. "That, my friend, is the sixty-four dollar question."

"Whatever. We just need to talk to you. We need your help."

"Hm, let me guess." The Trickster looked thoughtful." You two muttonheads broke the world and you want me to sweep up your mess." Alex smiled at how close to the truth it really was.

"Please, just five minutes," Sam begged. "Hear us out."

"Sure. Tell you what. Survive the next twenty four hours, we'll talk."

"Survive what?" Dean asked warily.

"The game!"

"What's the game?"

"You're in it."

"How do we play?"

"You're playing it." The Trickster motioned around to their surroundings.

"What are the rules?" Dean persisted.

The Trickster raised an eyebrow, grinned, then disappeared. The people around them unfroze, continuing on as if nothing had happened. "Son of a bitch," Dean cursed.

A blonde doctor approached them. "Dr. Sexy?" she asked. "Dr. Sexy?" She hurried past them. On an unspoken word, all three followed her.

"Paging Dr. Sexy." The intercom crackled to life. "Report to the ER."

"Oh, by the way," Dean spoke quietly. "Talking with monsters? Hell of a plan."

"Monster?" Alex let out a snort. "That's a bit cruel."

Sam turned his attention to her. "You said you knew his name. What did that mean?"

Alex shrugged. "Doesn't matter now."

Dean paused. "Yeah, it kind of does."

"Seriously?" Alex turned to them. "It's not that hard. Trickster, a powerful one at that. It's Loki. Duh." She pushed herself past them.

"Loki?" Sam followed. "That's what he didn't want us to know?"

"And what about you?" Dean asked. "Your name's not really Alex?"

Alex let out a laugh of disbelief. "You're believing him? Honestly? Come on, man. He's just looking for a good show." Apparently her answer satisfied them, as they didn't press her. She continued walking. "Now what do we do now?"

"I know what I'm doing?" Dean walked passed her. "Leaving."

A young woman known as Dr. Piccolo stepped out in front of Sam. Alex recognized her as the one from before. She tried to slap at Sam, who ducked barely in time. "Lady, what the hell?" Sam asked, slightly pissed.

"Your a brilliant, brilliant . . ."

"Yeah, coward," Sam finished for her. "You already said that. But I've got news for you. I'm not a doctor."

"Don't say that," Dr. Piccolo insisted passionately. "You're the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met, and I've met plenty. So that girl died on your table. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Sometimes people just die."

"I have no idea what you're saying to me." Sam shot Alex a questioning glance. She just shrugged, finding herself slightly amused.

"You're afraid. You're afraid to operate again. And you're afraid to love." Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she quickly departed, quietly sobbing.

Alex sighed. "Sounds like a chick flick. Gross."

"Yeah. We're getting out of here," Sam agreed with his brother. They started walking down the hall again.

"Hey, doctor." Alex turned to see a man step out of a patient's room.

Dean turned around as well. "Yeah?"

"My wife needs that face transplant," the man insisted.

"Okay, you know what, pal? None of this is real, and your wife doesn't need jack squat. Okay?" Dean turned to leave. They started walking away.

"Hey, doctor." Alex heard a gunshot, and beside her, Dean fell to his knees. White fear pulsed through her spine as she connected the dots. She looked back to see the man, a small handgun in hand. She rushed forward, knocked the gun from his hand, and punched him across the face, effectively knocking him out. Then she rushed back to Dean.

"Real." He gasped, "It's real."

"No no no no no no no," Sam said frantically. "Hey! We need a doctor!" he called out desperately.

Alex knelt down beside Dean, supporting him carefully. "You're a doctor," she offered helpfully.

"Shut up!" Sam yelled. By this time, other nurses had gathered around. They started talking, and as Alex watched, they lifted Dean up onto a gurney and wheeled him down the hall.

Alex and Sam were shoved along into an operating room. Alex was placed behind a glass wall. As she watched, Dean was wheeled into the room in front of her, and Sam followed, having been prepped by other nurses. He was now wearing operating scrubs and gloves. He looked frantically around, only pausing when he met Alex's gaze. She shrugged helplessly. Dr. Piccolo stood next to Alex, staring out at Sam. She let out a quiet sigh.

"Shouldn't you be in there helping?" she asked Alex.

"Uh, no." Alex quickly went on the defense. "I'm just moral support." Her gaze returned to the scene in front of her. Sam was holding gauze against Dean's back, trying to slow the blood flow. One of the doctors held a scalpel to Sam. He looked at it, confused. Dean shifted, and Sam leaned over, talking to his brother. Alex strained to make out words, but it was impossible. Suddenly Sam straightened up, meeting Alex's gaze. She looked helplessly back at him.

 _I don't know what to do._ Alex could almost hear Sam's voice in her head. She smiled supportably.

 _It's going to be fine,_ she mentally told him.

Sam started talking to the nurses around him. They looked perplexed, but Sam yelled, "Stat!" and they scattered.

 

 **A** lex watched Sam operate on Dean. She had seen it before, having seen them after many bloody hunts, but watching it happen in a hospital was different, almost scary. Finally Sam straightened up, snipping off the last piece of dental floss. He looked over at Alex, who grinned in relief. Beside her, Dr. Piccolo sighed, and whispered, "I love you" before placing her hand against the glass. Sam looked away, unnerved. Alex started laughing at that, partly out of pure relief.

Suddenly the room began to spin. Faint clapping grew louder, and Alex found herself standing in the midst of blue-tinted smoke. It faded, and Alex saw Sam and Dean standing in front of her. They were no longer dressed in their lab coat and scrubs, but in normal clothes. Alex looked down to see herself in a red halter and mini skirt, accompanied with high white boots. "Damn you, man," she muttered to the Trickster, hoping he heard her. A door next to her slid open, and a Japanese man ran out, wearing a shiny silver suit. He approached Sam and Dean, who were standing on some sort of platform, their feet held apart by boots attached to the stage.

The man spoke some words in Japanese, and there was a roaring applause. Squinting, Alex could see a large crowd before them. "Let's play Nutcracker!" the Japanese gameshow host yelled in poor english. Both Sam and Dean glanced around, and Dean looked behind him, his eyes catching Alex. He looked her up and down, and Alex shot him a glare, feeling herself blush. He turned back to Sam. "Sam Winchester." the game host began. He quickly rattled off a question in Japanese. "Countdown." The LED sign off to Alex's right started to countdown from 20.

"What?" Sam asked. He glanced around. "Uh, what am I suppose to say?" he asked Dean.

"You think I know?" Dean exclaimed.

Sam glanced back at Alex. He was slightly taken aback when he saw her. Alex shrugged. "I don't know Japanese."

"Uh, I, I don't speak Japanese." Sam tried to talk to the game host.

He turned back to Sam and repeated the question.

"Is he screwing with me?" Sam asked. "I, I, I can't speak Japanese."

The buzzer went off, and the crowd sighed. The host turned back to Sam. He said something in Japanese once again, what Alex assumed to mean, "The answer is," followed by the word, "Ruby!" The sound of bubbles popping filled the stage. "I'm sorry, Sam Winchester," he told him.

"Sorry? Sir? For what?" Sam looked around desperately. The host brought his hand to his mouth, apparently covering laughter. "Dean?" Sam looked helplessly confused. Alex frowned. Suddenly a metal pole with a red ball at the end flew up from the floor, hitting Sam squarely in the crotch. Dean looked absolutely horrified, and Alex visibly cringed.

However, the host laughed. "Nutcracker!" he yelled, punching at the air.

"Sam?" Dean asked, cringing a bit. Sam let out a pained noise, looking up at his brother.

The Japanese woman next to Alex, wearing the same getup, said something to the host. She walked up and started talking. Alex ignored her, and hurried over to stand by Dean. Sam let out another gasp, and Alex winced. Dean looked over at Alex, then down at the platform. He cringed again. "You okay?" he asked his brother.

The woman stopped talking and returned to her spot. Alex did the same. "Oh, what now?" Dean asked. The large blue doors opened, and Alex stopped, faintly surprised. Castiel strode forward. The crowd cheered. "Cas?" Both Dean and Alex spoke at the same time.

Castiel glanced over at Alex, looking her up and down, blue eyes wide. She blushed and tried to pull the skirt down to cover up more of her skin.

"Is this another trick?" Sam asked, bringing Cas' attention back to the two Winchesters.

"It's me. Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Us?" Dean looked surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." Castiel looked back over at Alex. "You've been missing for days."

"So get us the hell out of here!" Sam exclaimed.

Castiel strolled forward to stand beside Sam and Dean. "Let's go." He reached out to touch both Sam and Dean on the forehead, but he vanished suddenly in a burst of static.

"Cas?" Dean called.

"No, no, no." The host approached Sam and Dean, waving a finger. "Mr. Trickster does not like pretty-boy angels."

"I'm sure he doesn't," Alex growled under her breath. "Must get jealous when other angels are prettier than him." She remained unheard.

The host pulled a small card out of the inside of his suit. "Dean Winchester." He rattled off another question in Japanese. "Countdown." The clock started ticking.

"What do I do, what do I do?" Dean asked his brother, his voice rising in desperation.

"What?"

"I don't want to get hit in the nuts!"

"I don't know. I, I, uh, just, uh . . . wait."

"What?"

"I played a doctor," Sam realized.

"So?"

"So I played a doctor in _Dr. Sexy MD_. I operated."

"So?"

Something clicked in Alex's brain. The one piece she had forgotten fell into place. "Oh," she breathed. "Dean!"

"What?" Dean looked back at her.

"You, you need to play your role. Just go along with it!"

"What?" Dean looked confused.

"Just answer the question!" Sam told him quickly.

"In Japanese?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know Japanese!" Dean's voice rose.

"Just try!" Alex told him.

"Dammit." Dean swore, and hit the red button.

The crowd gasped. Dean looked around. "Kotaeha iesudesu?" he stammered out.

The host looked down at the card. "Sudesu." he confirmed.

"Sudesu." Dean repeated, rather confused at himself.

The host yelled something in Japanese. Dean braced himself, but the host held up Dean's arm. "Dean Winchester, Nutcracker Champion!" he yelled.

"How'd you do that?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea," Dean admitted.

"So that's it. We play our roles, we survive," Sam established.

"Yeah, but play our roles for how long?"

"Good question."

Dean forced a small grin, waving the crowd. Then everything faded.

 

 **A** lex found herself outside on a basketball court. Looking down, she found herself in basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Yay. Real clothes. Looking back up, she saw Sam and Dean beside her. Two other men were near them, one dribbling a basketball. _So how do I do this?_ Alex wondered to herself. She found herself walking towards the men. Before she knew it, both she, Sam, and Dean were playing along. Sam got the ball, shooting from a distance. It swooshed through the net. Sam turned around. Alex noted he looked very uncomfortable. "Seriously?" he asked.

Dean ran up to him. "Hey, your the one who said play our roles." he said cheerfully. He patted him on the back before running back to the game.

Sam sighed. "I have genital herpes," he finally said. Alex almost laughed, very much glad she wasn't part of this one. He paused a few seconds. "But now I take twice daily Herpexia to reduce my chances of passing it on." He paused again, looking even more uncomfortable than before. The basketball came to Alex, and she dribbled towards Dean. A quick crossover left her a wide open net, and she took the shot. It bounce off the backboard and into the net. "I'm doing all I can to slightly reduce the spread of . . . genital herpes," Sam finally stumbled out. "And that's a good thing." Then he turned back to the game, running up. Dean passed him the basketball, and he made an easy layup. Alex patted him on the back. Then everything faded once more.

 

 **S** he turned to find herself standing in front of a large window. The view took her breath a way. "Damn." They were looking down at the Earth. She heard Sam and Dean breathe out in amazement. She looked back at them. "The hell are we?"

Dean shrugged, not tearing his eyes away from Earth.

Alex studied the rest of the room. It was obviously man-made; the walls were metal, and a automatic door sat against the far wall. "What if this is Doctor Who?" her voice jumped with excitement. "Or Star Trek!"

"Or Star Wars," Dean suggested.

"There's no Earth in Star Wars," Sam pointed out, finally speaking. He walked towards the door. "Maybe someone can tell us where we --"

The door slid open. "Intruders!" Four suited creatures rushed through the door. They looked human, but Alex couldn't see their faces to tell for sure. They raised their large guns, and Alex immediately raised her hands.

"We, uh, come in peace?" Dean stammered out, confused.

"How did you get here?" one barked out.

"We don't know," Sam insisted. "We're were on Rizeth in the Gamma Sector just a few seconds ago."

Alex blinked, confused. _Oh. Of course. He was playing along._

"Who are you?"

Dean strolled forward. "I'm Captain Ross J. Sickler, Captain of the Second Federal Fleet." He straightened his navy blue jacket pridefully. "This is Collin Anderson," he motioned to Sam, "and Wilson." He jerked a thumb at Alex.

 _Wilson?_ Alex frowned. Fine. Whatever. She was Wilson. She straightened her back, falling into character.

One of the men pulled back its visor, revealing four eyes and a reddish tint to the skin. He immediately dropped to one knee, and the other three followed. "I am sorry, Commander. I did not recognize you."

Dean ignored him. "Where am I?"

"You're on the observation deck of the S.S. Speight. I am Boaz, Chief of Security." Boaz stood up, and the other three did the same. "Please. Come with me. I shall take the three of you to the bridge--" Suddenly he stopped, his four eyes focusing on something behind their shoulder.

Alex turned. What she saw took her breath away. A large spaceship loomed in front of them, the light of a nearby star gleaming off of its black exterior.

A light pitched sound filled the room. Alex knew that sound. That was a bad sound.

 

 **T** his went of for quite some time. Alex found herself in a sci-fi, a western, and a soap opera, something Alex hated. There was also a detective show, something that faintly reminded Alex of Pirates of the Caribbean, and even a musical. The plot was cliche, but hearing Sam sing had been worth it.

 

 **F** inally Alex found herself back in their motel, sitting on the bed, reading a large book. It had the same flowery wallpaper, but it was much brighter, and less dirty. Dean stood in the kitchen, a large, foot tall sandwich on the table. "I'm going to need a bigger mouth!" he exclaimed. The sound of an audience laughing filled the room. The door opened, and Sam stepped through. The invisible audience applauded. "Hey there, Sam. What's happening?"

"Oh, nothing. Um. Just the end of the world," Sam said in an over-the-top animated voice. The audience laughed. Sam glanced at the sandwich. "You're going to need a bigger mouth," he told Dean campily. More laughter. "Hey, uh, have you done your research yet?"

Dean looked embarrassed, turning towards Alex. She raised an eyebrow. Laughter. He turned back to Sam. "Oh yeah," he lied. "All kinds of research. All night."

"Yeah. Research," Alex said sarcastically.

The bathroom door opened, and a dark-haired woman in a bikini stepped out. She leaned sexily against the door frame. "Oh, Dean," she called softly.

Dean turned around, pulling a 'busted' face.

"We have some more research to do," she purred silkily.

Sam crossed his arms. "Dean."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed. The audience laughed again.

Sam frowned at his brother. He walked over to the woman. "Uh, I am really, really, very sorry, but, uh, we've got some work to do." He escorted her to the door.

"But we did do work. In depth," the woman insisted. Laughter. Dean waved at her as she left. Sam closed the door, and walked back over to them.

Alex stood up, wandering over to them. She opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Next time you do research," she said, addressing Dean, "warn me ahead of time." More laughter.

"How long do we have to keep doing this?" Dean asked through a force smile.

"I don't know," Sam answered. "Maybe forever? We might die in here." The audience applauded.

"How's that even funny?" Dean asked them. "Vultures."

"I am so done," Alex added quietly. "Like, I am pissed at this guy."

"Agreed." Dean was going to say more, but was cut off by the sound of the door being thrown open, followed by applause.

Alex looked up. "Cas!" she exclaimed. A frown covered her face at the sight of him. "What happened to you?" she asked, seeing blood and small cuts over his face.

Castiel's blue eyes ran over Sam and Dean before coming to a rest on Alex. "I don't have much time," he told her.

"What happened?" Sam repeated.

"I got out," Castiel explained.

"From where?" Dean stepped forward in front of Alex.

"Listen to me." Castiel's eyes still sought out Alex. "Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be."

"What thing? The Trickster?" Dean persisted.

"If it is a trickster," Castiel corrected him.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

Castiel opened his eyes to respond, but was violently flung backwards into the wall. The Trickster happily jumped through the door, and the crowd applauded, cheering loudly.

"Hello!" he yelled. Alex growled slightly. Castiel stood up. His mouth was now covered with a large piece of duct tape. "Thank you, thank you, ladies," the Trickster continued. He turned to Cas. "Hi Castiel!" He flicked his hand at Cas, who disappeared in a flash of static.

Dean and Sam looked utterly surprised, and Alex took that chance. "Well if it isn't our good friend Gabe," she said dryly. Confidence shot through her as the Trickster froze, turning to look at Alex, shock in his eyes. But it was gone so fast, Alex thought she imagined it.

"Gabe?" Sam glanced at her.

"He looks like a Gabe," was all she said. "I'm just playing the game." She returned her gaze to the Trickster, meaning something completely different. If he caught it, it didn't show.

"Where did you just send him?" Dean asked angrily.

The Trickster looked over at Dean. "Relax, he'll live . . . Maybe." More laughter.

"All right, you know what? I'm done with your little monkey dance, okay? We get it." Dean walked around Alex and Sam to stand in front of the shorter man.

"Yeah? Get what, hotshot?" the Trickster challenged him.

"Playing our roles, right? That's the game?"

"That's half the game." the Trickster corrected him.

"What's the other half?" Sam asked.

"Play your roles out there." He motioned into the distance.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Oh, you know. Sam, starring as Lucifer. Dean, starring as Michael. Your celebrity death match. Play your roles."

"You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?" Sam looked confused.

"Hells yeah! Let's light this candle!"

"We do that, the world will end," Sam reminded him sharply.

"Yeah, and who's fault it that? Who popped Lucifer out of the box? Hm? Look. It's started. You started it. It can't be stopped. Now let's get it over with!"

"Heaven or Hell, which side you on?" Dean asked angrily.

"I'm not on either side."

"Yeah, right. You're grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer. Which one is it?"

"You listen to me, you arrogant dick," Gabriel hissed. "I don't work for either of those S.O.B.s. Believe me."

"Oh, you're somebody's bitch."

The Trickster's smile vanished. He roughly grabbed Dean's collar and spun him around, pinning him into the wall. "Don't you ever, _ever_ presume to know who I am," he said quietly.

Alex made her move. "Try me." She stepped forward. "But what about me? What's my role? Does that make me the younger sibling? The one too scared to see my brothers fight?" She pouted mockingly, crossing her arms. "I don't think so. 'Cause I'm not turning tail and running like a scared little bitch."

Anger flashed through the Trickster's whole face. He let go of Dean, turning to face her. He stepped forward, and flicked his hand. The room disappeared. Alex found herself in a small, dark room. She let out a huff, looking for a way out.

 

 **A** fter a few seconds, the Trickster appeared. Alex turned to face him and crossed her arms. "That wasn't very nice."

Anger flared up again in his eyes, but his voice remained steady. "What do you know?"

"I mean, was that really necessary?" Alex ignored his question. "I mean, seriously . . ." She was cut off when the short man roughly pinned her against the wall.

"I asked you a question," he growled in her ear.

"Ow!" she complained. "I forget how short-tempered you archangels can be. Let go." She tried to struggle free, but to no avail. She relaxed. "Dude. Gabriel. Let me go." Gabriel stepped back, running his hands through his fairly long hair. Alex smoothed down the front of her shirt. "Thank you." She critically looked him up and down. "Well?"

"What do you know?" the archangel repeated.

"What do I know? That's rather broad. Well, I know how to tell whether something is rock or bone by licking it . . ." She was cut of again when she hit the wall. "Ouch!" she yelped again as her head banged against the hard wall. "Be gentle!"

"What do you know about me?" he growled slowly.

"Let go, and I'll tell you," Alex growled back. He reluctantly did so, watching the young girl warily. "Thanks. Now where would you like me to begin? You're not the Trickster; you're Gabriel. The archangel. You fled Heaven because Michael and Lucifer were fighting. You came to earth, pretending to be a trickster. The other pagan gods know you as Loki. Blah, blah, blah. Anything else?"

"How do you know about me?" Gabriel looked shocked, but was slowly regaining his composure.

"Don't worry." Alex cracked a smile. "No one told me, if that's what you're worried about." She paused, a certain thought coming to mind. "Where's Cas, by the way?"

"Doesn't matter," Gabriel shrugged. "But how did you know all this?"

"It matters to me," Alex shot back.

"You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine first."

Gabriel took a menacing step forward.

"Fine." Alex tried to look unfazed. "I came from a universe where all of this is just a show." Gabriel looked unconvinced. Alex shrugged. "Take it or leave it; it's the truth. Now, can I get back to Sam and Dean? I wasn't going to tell them who you really are. 'Cause where's the fun in that, eh?" She laughed slightly, stopping when she realized Gabriel wasn't laughing with her. She rubbed the back of her head, not remotely surprised to find a large bump forming.

"Not a chance," he shook his head. "You are staying right here." He disappeared.

"Gabriel!" Alex yelled after him. He didn't come back. "Castiel!" she yelled. Still nothing. "Hey, Cas! You okay, man?" No answer. Alex sighed and sat down on the ground. "Well, Gabriel, I hope this is fucking entertaining for you!"

 

 **A** full day passed. Or, at least it felt like a day. Alex was bored out of her mind. Neither Gabriel or Castiel showed up. Finally, at one point, everything flickered and disappeared. Alex was sitting on the floor of the abandoned paper mill. A few feet away, Sam and Dean stood near a ring of fire. In the middle of that ring: Gabriel. Alex stood up. "Finally," she said loudly. "It's about time." She walked over to them. "Hey, man," she addressed the angel.

Gabriel ignored her. "Where'd you get the holy oil?" he asked Dean.

"Well, you might say we pulled it out of Sam's ass," Dean told him.

"Huh?" Alex looked very confused. "Well, okay."

"I'll explain later," Sam promised awkwardly.

Dean looked over at Alex. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've just been really, really bored." She glared at the archangel. "No thanks to you, Gabe."

"Gabe?" Sam looked at him. "You're Gabriel. The archangel?"

"Guilty." Gabriel flashed Alex a smile. "I'm sorry, but I was a little, occupied."

"Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a trickster?" Dean asked.

"My own private witness protection. I skipped out of heaven, got a face transplant, carved out my own little corner of the world. Till you two came along and screwed it all up."

"What did Daddy say when you ran off and joined the pagans?" Dean asked unbelievingly.

"Daddy doesn't say anything about anything," Gabriel told him.

"Then what happened? Why'd you ditch?" Sam asked.

"Do you blame him? I mean his brothers are heavyweight douchenozzles."

"Shut your cakehole," Gabriel snarled. "You don't know anything about my family. I love my father, my brothers. But watching them turn on each others? Tear at each other's throat? I couldn't bear it, okay? So I left. And now it's happening all over again." Alex let out a sympathetic murmur. Gabriel looked over at her, confused. "Is that pity I hear?" he asked her pointedly.

"Pity?" Alex shook her head. "No, not pity. But I am sorry. I mean, I know how that feels . . ." She trailed off, not sure what else to say.

"You know about all this?" Dean asked Alex. "You were talking about him. Before you disappeared. That's why he got so pissed."

"Yeah," Alex shrugged. "Sorry I didn't tell you. But it was better this way."

"But what is her role?" Sam asked Gabriel.

He shrugged. "As far as I know, she doesn't have one," he said simply. "I don't even know how she knows about me."

"I told you--" Alex protested.

"I don't believe you," Gabriel shot back at her. "I mean, seriously. A different universe? Please." He laughed, which faltered when Sam and Dean looked serious. "You believe her?" He looked surprised.

"She fell out of the sky onto my car," Dean said bluntly. "That's a rather elaborate joke. She knows what's going to happen. She can stop it."

"It can't be stopped," Gabriel said matter-of-factly.

"You want to see the end of the world?" Dean exclaimed.

"I want it to be over!" Gabriel's voice rose. "I have to sit back and watch my brother's kill each other thanks to you. Heaven, Hell, I don't care who wins. I just want it to be over!"

"It doesn't have to be like this," Sam pushed. "There's got to be some way to pull the plug." He looked over at Alex.

"You do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping it, because this isn't about a war. It's about two brothers who loved each other and betrayed each other. You'd think you be able to relate."

"What are you talking about?"

Gabriel shook his head. "You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in Heaven, so must it be on Earth. One brother has to kill each other."

"What the hell are you saying?" Dean hissed.

"Why do you think I always took such an interest in you? Because from the moment Daddy flipped on the lights, we knew it was always going to end with you. Always." He was met with silence. Both Sam and Dean glanced at Alex, but she didn't argue with the angel. They looked at each other.

"No," Dean decided. "That's not going to happen."

"I'm sorry, but it is." He let out a long sigh. "Guys, I wish this were a tv show." He met Alex's gaze. "Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow . . . but this is real. And it's going to end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's going to be."

More silence followed his words, both Sam and Dean lost in their own thoughts. Finally Gabriel spoke again. "So, boys. Now what? We stare at each other for the rest of eternity?"

"No," Alex spoke. "You're going to bring Cas back. Now."

"So demanding." Gabriel studied the young girl. There was something about her, but he couldn't place it. "I am, am I?"

"You are." Dean backed Alex up. "Or we're going to dunk you in some holy oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel." That made Alex smile. Gabriel rolled his eyes, but snapped his fingers. Castiel appeared.

"Cas. You okay?" Dean asked. Alex turned to see the familiar angel in a trench coat.

He didn't immediately answer, but stepped forward to Alex. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Alex promised him. She didn't understand why he always had to make sure she was okay before he checked on Sam and Dean. Why did everyone treat her like some delicate flower?

"Good." He stepped forward. "Hello, Gabriel."

Gabriel was staring at Cas, and his gaze slipped down to Alex, an eyebrow raised. She blushed, and studied the ground. She ran her hand through her hair, flinching as her fingers brushed over the bump on the back of her head. She sharply inhaled at the pain. Castiel's voice reached her ears. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Just a bump."

"Sorry about that," Gabriel apologized in a sarcastic tone. Alex looked up to see Castiel glaring at his brother. She nudged him gently, and his blue eyes turned back to her. He quickly reached up and touched her on the forehead.

 

 **T** hen she was back in the hotel. "Uh, Cas?" she asked aloud. No response. She rubbed the back of her neck. "Okay then. Could you bring back some fries?" she joked, fairly certain she remained unheard. "Or chocolate. Chocolate is always good." She laughed at her joke before sitting down on one of the beds. She picked up Dean's laptop, looking at the calendar. Cas hadn't been lying. They had been gone for almost six days. She whistled in amazement.

There was a flutter of wings. Alex didn't look up until something was dropped on the bed next to her. Alex looked at it, and a look of happy disbelief crossed her face. "You didn't," she laughed, picking up a bag. Opening it, she found a box of fries.

"I thought you said you wanted them."

Alex looked up into Castiel's confused expression. She smiled again and stood up. "Come here." She pulled the angel into a hug. "You are unbelievable."

Castiel returned the hug. "Thank you, I think."

Alex broke the hug and sat back down on the bed, taking a handful of fries.

"I'm sorry, but the restaurant didn't have chocolate," Castiel apologized, sitting down on the bed next to her.

"That's perfectly fine," Alex promised him. "Thank you."

"Where did he hurt you?" Cas asked.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it," Alex insisted. "I just banged my head. When I was thrown up against a wall. But it's nothing." Castiel reached up to touch the back of her head, but Alex stopped him. "It's nothing," she repeated. "Seriously. Don't waste your angel mojo on me."

Castiel looked like he was going to protest, but thankfully didn't. He nodded, and disappeared.

Alex sighed, and returned to the laptop, nibbling on a fry. There was another flutter of feathers. "You back?" Alex asked, expecting Castiel.

"I suppose you could say that." Gabriel's voice reached her ears. Alex jumped, and looked up to see the archangel leaning against the wall. "So you and Castiel, eh?"

"Huh?" Alex looked perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on!" Gabriel rolled his head back. "I'm not stupid. There's something between you and my brother."

"There's nothing between me and your brother," Alex shot back, crossing her arms.

"That's exactly what someone would say when there's something."

"It's also what people say when there's nothing!" First Bobby, now Gabriel. If anyone else asked her about her love life, she swore she would shoot them. It wasn't any of their business, dammit.

Gabriel laughed. "I'll believe it when I see it," he told her humorously. "Fine. If you won't answer that question, here's another. What's your name? And don't say Alex," he added when Alex opened her mouth. "We both know what's not true."

"It doesn't matter. As far as anyone needs to know, my name is Alex. Just Alex. It's been two years. My old name died with my old life, Gabe. I'm not the same person anymore."

Gabriel studied her carefully, then nodded. "Very well, _Alex_. What's it short for? Alexandra?"

Alex shrugged. "If you want. Doesn't matter to me."

Gabriel let out a grunt, shifting slightly. "Alex. How am I suppose to get a good nickname from that?" he asked, mostly to himself.

Alex shrugged. "Do I need one?" The look the archangel gave her answered her question. "Fine. As long as it's good." She turned back to her food, leaving Gabriel to his thoughts. Part of her hoped someone would come back. Then Gabriel would leave. But she had no such luck.

"Xandera," he finally suggested.

"How's that shorter then Alex?" She looked back up.

"Zan?"

Alex pulled a frown, not particularly fond of it.

"Z."

Alex shrugged. "Sure. Whatever. Not sure where that came from," she mumbled to herself. "By the way, thanks for planning this whole charade over my birthday. Nothing like it being forgotten two years in a row."

Gabriel shrugged. "Sorry not sorry."

The motel door cracked open, and Alex looked over at it. When she turned back, Gabriel was gone. "We're back," Dean called, stepping in.

"Hey, about time," she said warmly. She picked up another fry, chewing it carefully.

"Where'd you get those?" Sam asked her.

Alex looked down at the bag. "Cas got them for me."

"Cas?" Dean looked very much surprised. "The angel Cas?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded. "How many Cas's do you know?"

"What's going on between you two?" Dean asked, exchanging a glance with Sam.

"Nothing! What do you mean?"

"You know, the whole him always showing up when you're alone, bringing you food. That's a little more than nothing."

"Stop asking me about my love life!" Alex finally just snapped. "Why does everyone think they need to know? I don't like Cas, I don't like you, and I don't like you." She pointed to each of the Winchesters in turn. "Why does everyone think I have to like someone? Is it because I'm a girl? Because I flirt with you? Well, I don't. I only flirt with you because I feel comfortable around you, okay? That's just what I do. You know that. So just _leave me alone_!" She fell into silence.

Sam and Dean were quiet for several long seconds. "I don't think Cas sees it that way," Dean finally said.

"Dean!" Sam elbowed him roughly.

"I don't know what he's doing, okay? I mean, yeah, it's weird. But it's not like he's flirting with me." She let out an angry laugh. "Does he do that? Does he even know what that is?" She was met with more silence. "I'm totally serious. I don't know either. I mean, I'm just a human. And a crappy one at that." More silence. Dean and Sam exchanged another look. "Oh, come on! Why would an angel like me? What could he possibly see? I don't even get noticed by _normal_ people, let along a several thousand year old angel!" Alex trailed off.

Neither Sam or Dean looked convinced, but thankfully neither pressed the issue.

The young woman shook her head. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I -- it's just been one of those days, okay?" Alex sat back down on the bed and continued eating her fries. "By the way, we've been gone for six days."

"Really?" Sam pulled out his laptop to confirm what she had said.

"Yeah." Alex sighed. "Missed my birthday again." She saw Sam and Dean exchange look, and she sighed. "Oh. You guys forgot. Again." She heaved a larger sigh. "Well, can't say I'm surprised."

Sam mumbled an apology, while Dean protested, "No way, Pip. Of course we remembered." He sat down on the bed next to her. "You think we'd forget it two years in a row?"

Alex shook it off. "Doesn't matter. So we gonna get out of here? Gabriel hasn't exactly cleared out yet."

Dean shot her a confused glance. "Uh, yeah. Sounds like a plan. We'll head out in a few hours."

"Few hours?" Alex scoffed. "You want to give Gabe a chance to get back at us?" She glanced at the clock. "Besides, its almost 5. You want to leave at eight at night?"

"Fine." Dean rolled his eyes. "We can leave in the next few minutes."

"Better." Alex nodded approvingly.

Sam agreed. He got up to pack his things. "We didn't forget your birthday," he murmured on the way past.

Alex just sighed.


	36. The Real Ghostbusters

**T** hey quickly packed, and were back out on the road within the next half hour. They stopped for dinner before leaving town, and then continued straight towards South Dakota. Alex had almost fallen asleep in the backseat when one of Dean's ringtones filled the car. Sam answered it. "It's a text from Chuck."

"What does he want?" Dean asked, not really seeming to care.

"It says, 'Get here now. Life or Death.' Then it gives an address." Sam sounded concerned.

"Where?" Dean checked the clock. 10:59.

"Vermillion, Ohio."

"What?" Dean exclaimed. "We drove through there six hours ago!" He sighed angrily. "Should we turn around?"

"He says it's life or death."

Dean sharply turned the wheel, and the Impala spun in a U-turn. "Let's go."

 

 **T** he drove the whole night. None of the three got any sleep. Finally, at 6:00 in the morning, they pulled into a motel two miles west of Vermillion. Dean checked them in, and they stumbled tiredly into their rooms. Sam laid down in one bed, and Dean collapsed on the other. Alex lay down next to Dean, too tired to care what he would think. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

 

**January 22nd, 2010**

**Vermillion, Ohio**

**S** he woke up when Dean shifted. She lifted her head. The amount of sunlight flooding through the window told her it was early afternoon. She looked behind her. She had her back pressed up against Dean's. She lay back down, feeling comforted by his presence next to her. She had just gotten re-comfortable when Dean shifted again, this time more. Alex protested quietly when he rolled onto his back. Alex pulled herself into a sitting position, looking down at the hunter. "Should we wake Sammy?"she asked quietly, studying Dean's green eyes. He glanced at the clock, sitting straight up. It was almost 2:00.

"Yeah, shit. We gotta go." Dean shook Sam away. "Come on, man. Nap time's over."

Sam groggily pulled himself out of his bed, put on his shoes, and followed Dean out of the room. Dean started the car, and they drove off towards the Pineview Hotel. "Come on!" he yelled as they hit a red light. "We're in a hurry!" Alex could feel the tension fill the car.

 

 **F** inally, Dean pulled the car into a parking space and all three jumped out of the car, running towards the hotel entrance. Suddenly Dean stopped, and Alex halted as well. She turned to see what Dean was looking at, and a small smile filled her face. The entire parking lot was filled with Chevy Impalas. "Hey, come on," they heard Sam call. They exchanged a look, and broke into a sprint to catch up with the other hunter.

Near the entrance, Alex saw Chuck Shurley, pacing nervously back and forth.

"Chuck!" Sam called, stopping by the author. "There you are."

"Guys?" Chuck turned to them, surprised. His gaze flickered from Dean, down to Alex, then back to Sam.

"What's going on?" Dean asked, slightly out of breath.

"Ah, nothing. You know. I'm just . . . kinda hanging. What are you guys doing here?"

"You told us to come."

"Uh, no I didn't." Chuck looked very confused.

"Yeah, you did. You texted me. This address, life or death situation? Any of this ringing a bell?"

"I didn't send you a text," the prophet repeated.

"We drove all night!" Dean snapped angrily.

"I'm sorry!" Chuck apologized. "I don't know what could . . . oh no." Realization crossed his face.

"What?" Alex looked at Chuck. He said something under his breath.

"Sam!" Alex looked up to hear a familiar squeal. She rolled her eyes as she recognized who it came from. Becky, Sam's 'biggest fan'. "You made it!"

"Oh, ah, Becky, right?" Sam looked over at Dean.

Becky ran down the stairs. "Oh! You remembered!" She lowered her voice. "You've been thinking about me." Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam looked around, confused. "I . . ." he began to protest.

"It's okay." Becky cut him off. "I can't get you out of my head either." Alex bit her lip, trying to hold back laughter. Dean kicked her with his foot, and Alex looked up at him. He didn't share her amusement.

"Becky," Chuck asked slowly, "did you take my phone?"

"I just borrowed it. From your pants," Becky insisted.

"Becky . . ." Chuck looked thoroughly embarrassed.

"What? They're going to want to see it.".

"See what?" Both Sam and Dean asked at the same time.

"Oh. My. God. I love it when they talk at the same time." Becky looked like she could barely contain her excitement.

"Yeah, yeah," Alex agreed sarcastically. "It's adorable." She racked her brain, trying to figure out what was happening. _Oh_. A wide grin broke across her face. She turned to Chuck. "Is this . . ."

"Yeah." Chuck grimaced.

"Hey, Chuck?" A man opened the doors. "Come on pal, it's showtime." Becky ran up the stairs and into the hotel without a second thought.

Chuck sighed. "Guys, I'm sorry. For everything." He followed Becky.

Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance. Alex started up the stairs. "You guys coming?"

"What's going on?" Dean asked.

"Something you're _never_ going to forget," Alex promised. Sam and Dean followed.

 

 **T** hey entered the hotel, which was unusually crowded. A man walked by, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket like the one Dean was wearing. He even had an amulet that looked just like Dean's around his neck. He laughed. "Hey, Dean. Looking good."

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked, extremely confused.

The man looked at Dean like he was stupid. "I'm Dean, too. Duh." He rolled his eyes before walking away.

Dean looked at Sam, then down at Alex. "What. The. Hell."

A man dressed in a scarecrow costume approached, a can in one hand, a scythe in the other. "Uh-oh," he said jokingly. "It's Sam and Dean. I'm in trouble now." He laughed and walked away, waving his scythe in Sam's face.

"What." Dean turned to Sam, his face blank with shock.

"Becky, what is this?" Sam asked slowly.

"It's awesome!" She exclaimed. "A _Supernatural_ convention: the first ever!" A large smile crossed her face.

Alex scanned the room. She spotted several tables full of _Supernatural_ items: mugs, books, even shirts. She smiled, and wandered over to it. "Hey, Dean-o," she joked, holding up a black shirt with white lettering, "got salt?" She laughed. "This is amazing. Can I get one?" She studied the other things. Dean glared at her. "Ooh." Alex held up another black shirt; this one had the anti-possession symbol printed in white. "Think it'll work?"

Dean and Sam slowly approached, both frowning slightly. Alex picked up one of the books: _No Rest for the Wicked_. She flipped through the pages. "Am I in here?" she wondered aloud, even though she full well knew the answer. "Ah, yes. There I am." She scanned the pages. A light tug on her arm turned her attention to Dean. She put the book down and followed them into a large room with a stage and chairs, half of which were filled.

A man was standing on the stage, and Alex assumed him to be the manager. "Welcome to the first annual _Supernatural_ convention," he drawled. "At 3:45 in the Magnolia room we have the panel, 'Frightened little boy, the secret life of Dean'."

Alex snickered quietly.

"And at 4:30 there is the 'Homoerotic subtext of _Supernatural_ '," the manager continued.

Alex looked up to see their faces, letting out a full laugh. Sam pulled his 'bitch face', giving Alex a rather rough shove, sending her to the ground. Alex made no attempt to get up. She just lay there, laughing.

"And of course, the big hunt starts at 7 o'clock sharp." The crowd applauded. Alex got to her feet, circling around to stand beside Dean. "But right now, right now I'd like to introduce the man himself. The creator, the writer of the _Supernatural_ books. The one. The only. Mr. Carver Edlund!" The crowd cheered.

Alex clapped, nudging for Dean to to the same. He didn't. Chuck walked on stage, looking nervous. His eyes met Alex, and she gave him a supporting smile.

Chuck approached the microphone. He reached up to hold it, and it screeched. He pulled back. "Oh, good." He said quietly. "This isn't nearly as awkward as I . . ." He trailed off, clearing his throat several times. "Dry mouth," he apologized. He looked around, grabbing a water bottle off of the table to his left. As they watched, he drank nearly half the bottle in one gulp. The crowd murmured quietly, and Alex shifted in impatience. Finally Chuck turned back to the mic. "Ok, um," he cleared this throat one more time, "I guess . . . any questions." Almost everyone's hand shot up. Chuck looked surprised. "Uh, you?"

A skinny man in the front row jumped up. "Hey, Mr. Edlund, big fan. I was just wondering, where did you come up with Sam and Dean in the first place?"

Chuck looked back at Sam and Dean. Alex looked over at them. They cocked their heads to one side. "Uh, ah, I . . . they just came to me," Chuck stammered out. Alex heard Dean let out a huff. More hands shot up. "Uh, hook man." 

"Ah, ja." The man had a heavy German accent. "Why in every fight scene, Sam and Dean are having their gun or knife knocked away by the bad guy? Why don't they keep them on some sort of bungee?"

Alex snickered again. Sam tilted his head. "I, yeah . . . I really don't know," Chuck admitted.

"Ja, follow up. Why can't Dean and Sam be telling that Ruby is evil? I mean, she is clearly manipulating Sam into some kind of moral lapse. It's obvious, nein?"

Alex let out a low whistle. Both Sam and Dean looked deeply offended. "Hey!" Becky stomped down the isle, clearly angry. "If you don't like the books, don't read 'em, Fritz!"

"Ok, okay. Just okay, it's okay." Chuck held out a hand, trying to dispense the tension. "So, next question. You."

"Yeah." A man stood up. "At the end of the last book, Dean goes to hell. So, what happens next?"

"Well, there lies an announcement, a-actually. You're all going to find out." Alex grinned. "Thanks to a wealthy Scandinavian investor, we're going to start publishing again." His last few words were drowned out by cheers. Everyone stood up and applauded. Alex looked up to see shock on the two hunters' faces.

Eventually the audience settled back down. "Any more questions?" More hands. "Yeah, you."

"In the last book, you introduced the character Alex." A tall man got up. "She said she knew Sam and Dean's future. What's up with that?"

"Well," Chuck began, looking nervously at Alex. She shrugged, waiting for his response. "She does know their future . . ."

"But she still let Dean go to hell," another man chimed in. "So is she bad?"

Alex pulled an offended face. "No, no." Chuck said quickly. "She's not--"

"Is she a demon?"

A _demon_? Alex glared at the man, crossing her arms. Dean glanced down at her. "No, no. She's, she's not a demon." Chuck avoided Alex's eyes.

"You can dish it out, but you can't take it, hmm?" Dean whispered, slightly amused.

"Shut up. This is fun. But a demon?" She cocked an eyebrow, looking up at the hunter. "Seriously? Is that what people think of me?"

Sam just shrugged.

 

 **T** he question-and-answer lasted a while longer, and when it ended, the three of them slipped out of the room first.

"I can't believe he's publishing again." Dean snapped. "He can't just, publish our lives!"

"Dean, relax." Alex quickened her pace to match his. "Let's get some lunch, maybe get some sleep. We can deal with all this later."

Dean stopped, looking her in the eyes. "Yeah, maybe you're right," he finally admitted. "I -- let's go." He lead them out the motel and back to the Impala. Once they had found the right one, they drove back to the motel.

 

 **T** hey were able to get a few hours sleep in before they were back up. Both Dean and Sam were still mad about the books, so they got back into the car and drove back to the convention.

Alex led the way back into the building. "Hey. We haven't eaten since lunch. Let's get some dinner."

"First we got to find Chuck," Dean told her.

"Chuck isn't going anywhere," Alex argued. "But I'm starving." On cue, her stomach growled.

"Alex is right," Sam put in. "I'm hungry too."

"Fine." Dean rolled his eyes. "Just a quick meal, okay?"

"Promise." They entered the cafe, stopping for a sandwich and a beer. They wouldn't sell the alcohol to Alex, so she just drank half of Dean's. He went back for a second.

"I still can't believe he's publishing," Dean continued. "He has no right to our lives! My life is private, you know?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "He should have at least told us, asked for our permission."

Alex rolled her eyes, but had to agree they had a point. She knew she'd be in this next set of books, and, thinking back, that wasn't very appealing.

 

 **T** hey finished around 6:30, and stood up to find Chuck. "Hey, Dean. Nice costume," a guy called. Dean nodded politely, walking off in the other direction.

"This is just freakin weird," he muttered.

"Hey, Dean." A man approached.

Alex looked up. "Me?" she asked.

"Yeah. Duh." The man rolled his eyes, and, judging by his costume, he was Sam. He studied Alex. "Tell you what? You want to do a little role playing? You be Dean, I'll be Sam?" He raised his eyebrow seductively. "How about we do a little investigating of our own?"

Alex felt herself blush. "How about you get a life?" she snapped. She stalked off. Dean snickered. "Shut up," she hissed back to him. "You know what he's implying, of course."

Dean immediately shut up. "These guys are freaks," he swore.

 

 **I** t took them a half hour to find Chuck, who was with Becky, sitting at a table. "Hey Sam!" Becky exclaimed. Chuck looked disappointed, and Alex narrowed her eyes.

"Excuse us." Dean told Becky. He angrily turned to Chuck. "In case you haven't noticed, our plates are kind of full, okay? Finding the Colt, hunting the devil? We don't have time for this crap."

"I dunno." Alex shrugged, sitting down in a chair next to Becky. "We have a little time." Dean glared at her, but she ignored them. "You gonna drink that?" she asked Becky, taking a sip of her drink.

"It's alcoholic . . ." Becky began to point out.

"Good."

"I didn't call you," Chuck was saying.

"He means the books, Chuck," Sam clarified. "Why are you publishing more books?"

"Uh, for food and shelter?"

Dean leaned closer. "Who gave you the right to our life story?" he challenged.

"An archangel, and I didn't want it."

"Well deal's off, okay?" Sam added. He shot a quick glance at Becky, "Our lives are not for public consumption."

"Ah, Becky, would you excuse us for a second?" Chuck stood up.

Becky nodded, wide eyed. "Uh-huh." Alex got up to follow, but Becky caught her hand. "I know you and Sam aren't dating," she said, her eyes darkening. "Chuck told me."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah. Thank God for that." She pulled her hand out of Becky's grasp and followed the three men.

Chuck led them into a nearby hallway before stopping and turning to face them. "Do you know what I do for a living?" he asked them.

"Yeah, Chuck, we know," Sam told him.

"Then could you tell me? 'Cause I don't, alright? I'm not a good writer. I have no marketable skills. I'm not some hero who can just hit the road and fight monsters, okay?" His voice rose. "Until the world ends, I've got to live, alright? And the Supernatural books are all I've got. What else do you want me to do?" He ended, and both Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. Alex let out a noise of agreement.

Suddenly, an ear piercing scream split the air. Alex's head snapped up, trying to pinpoint the noise. Both Sam and Dean took off down the hall. Alex started after them. "No, guys," Chuck protested. Alex stopped. "Wait," Chuck called. She turned him, asking a silent question. "It's the hunt," the prophet explained.

"Ah." Alex nodded understandingly. "Is it that late already? I'll go tell them." She hurried off after the two hunters.

"What happened?" Dean was asking a seemingly scared woman.

"I saw a ghost," the maid told Dean.

"Dean," Alex stepped forward, he waved her off. Alex looked behind her to see a small crowd was gathering. "Dean," she repeated.

"Alex, hang on," Dean chastised her.

One of the LARPer's walked up to them. "A ghost?" he asked in a obviously forced deep voice, "Can you tell us what is looked like?"

"Why don't you leave this to the grownups, pal." Dean shooed his off.

"Dean," Alex repeated.

"A woman," the maid replied. "She was in an old fashioned dress. Really old. Like a school marm, or something?"

"Did she say something to you?" another man asked. Dean turned around, seeing the crowd for the first time. He was about to tell them something when the woman spoke up.

"Ok." She raised her voice, a grin across her face. "Gather close, everybody, for a terrifying tale of terror! I saw, a ghost."

Dean finally seemed to finally understand what was going on. Alex gave him a face that read, 'I tried to tell you.' Sam pushed his way past the maid, and Dean then Alex followed. "Yeah, the hunt's started."

"Well, thanks for telling us," Dean snapped.

"I tried," Alex snapped back, but stopped when Becky came running up to them.

"Oooh, the LARPing's started," she said excitedly.

"The -- what is that again?" Dean asked.

"Live . . ." Alex began.

"Live Action Role Playing." Becky cut in. "It's a game. The convention puts it on." She handed Sam a piece of paper.

He took it, unfolding it. "Dad's Journal," he read. "Sam and Dean, this hotel is haunted. You must hunt down the ghost. Interview witnesses, discover clues, and find the bones. First team to do so wins a . . . $50 gift card to Sizzler. Love, Dad." Both he and Dean exchanged a look.

"Ooh. Gift card," Alex said dryly.

"You guys are sooo going to win!" Becky exclaimed. Alex gave a noncommittal grunt. She noticed the crowd had started to disperse, heading back down towards the lobby. She nudged Dean, and they followed them down.

When they reached the lobby, it was empty. Alex narrowed her eyes in confusion. She looked up at Dean. Then, some people entered, and Alex saw why they had left. They had changed into suits, and everyone was holding a fake FBI badge in their hands. Alex rolled her eyes. "Give me a break." she groaned. Dean and Sam followed the group over to the manager, and Alex did the same. They stood a few paces back, watching.

"Why yes, Agents Lennon and McCartney, as the manager of this fine establishment, I can insure you this place is indeed haunted. This place once was an orphanage, run by mean old Leticia Gore. 100 years ago, on this very night, Miss Gore went insane, and butchered four little boys before killing herself. Now folks say the that the souls of those poor little boys are trapped here, and the evil spirit of Miss Gore punishes them to this very day."

Alex huffed, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, that's just about all the community theatre I can take."

"Yeah, this cannot get any weirder," Sam agreed.

As if on cue, two men walked by, talking in deep voices. "Dad said . . . he said I might have to kill you," one growled.

"Kill me?" the other asked. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know," the first growled.

"Oh . . ." They walked out of earshot.

Alex couldn't help it. She laughed. Sam punched her. "Ow. Dean," she whined to the older hunter, rubbing her shoulder, "he hit me again."

"This isn't funny," Dean agreed. Alex huffed. "I need a drink," both Sam and Dean decided at the same time. He led them over to the bar. Alex sat down on one of the bar stools, swiveling back and forth. She ended up ordering a Mountain Dew, sipping it occasionally. Dean sat beside her, staring at his beer. "How you doing?" Alex looked up to see him talking to a woman. She was staring down at her cell phone, but appeared to be one of the hired actors.

"Busy." The woman didn't look up.

"Well, you sure look lovely tonight," Dean continued. "Especially for a dead chick."

The woman still didn't look up. "Buddy, I have heard that line seventeen times tonight. And all from guys in MacGyver jackets." Alex snickered. The woman looked up and paused. Dean held her gaze. "But you seem different."

"How so?"

She smiled. "Well, you don't seem scared of woman," she finally admitted. Dean smirked.

A loud voice reached their ears, and all three looked up. "For the last time I'm not making this up, okay?" A young man raised his voice in agitation. "She's upstairs. A real, live, dead ghost."

Dean and Sam got up and approached them. "Excuse me?" Dean asked. Alex hopped off the bar stool and followed.

"I'm sure it was just one of those ghost actors." The man's friend tried to comfort him.

"Who beat the hell out of me then vanished?" the young man exclaimed. Blood dripped down from his ear and forehead.

"You saw something?" Sam asked.

"This isn't part of the game, jerk," the man told Sam. He turned back to his friend. "Look, I'm getting out of here and you should do the same." He walked away.

"Alex, wait." He didn't. His friend took off after him. "Hey, come back!"

"What do you think?" Sam turned to Dean.

"I don't think the guy's a good enough actor to be acting," Dean decided. Alex smiled in humor. "Let's go check it out." Dean led them into the lobby.

"Why yes, Agents Jagger and Richards." the manager was saying. "As manager of this fine establishment, I can insure you it is indeed haunted."

They stalked right by him and up to the front desk. "Excuse me." Dean asked the man working there. "Mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"Look. I don't have time to play Star Wars, guys." The real manager looked up. "Go ask the guy in the ascot."

"Actually," Dean slid a fifty dollar bill across the desk, "we, ah, really wanted to talk to you."

"Okay," the manager looked interested. "You guys are really into this."

"You have no idea," Alex said quietly.

"What do you want to know?" the hotel manager ignored her comment.

"All the stuff they're saying. This place being haunted, Leticia Gore. Any truth to it?"

"We generally don't like to publicize this to, normal people, but yeah. 1910 this place was called 'Gore Orphanage.' Miss Gore, killed four boys with a butcher's knife, then offed herself."

"And is tonight really the anniversary?" Sam asked.

"Yep. Guess your convention folks want authenticity."

Alex snickered. Sam nudged her quiet her.

"Hm." Dean glanced at Sam.

"There been any sightings?" the younger brother asked.

"Yep. Over the years." The manager looked over at Sam. "A few maids have quit saying they heard the boys or saw them. A janitor even saw Miss Gore once."

"Where did Miss Gore carve up the kids?" Dean asked with a glance at Sam.

"Look, I don't want you stomping all over the joint. A lot of this place is off limit to nerds."

In response, Dean slid another $50 across the desk.

"The attic," the man whispered to them, taking the bill.

Sam and Dean nodded their thanks then walked off. Alex followed. Sam and Dean exchanged a few words, and then Sam headed off. "Where's he going?" Alex asked.

"EMF," Dean explained.

"Mm." Alex watched him go. "What about weapons? He getting any of those?"

Dean looked down at her. "Uh, no. I don't think so."

"Okay." Alex shrugged. "Cool." She dragged Dean over to the convention stands, looking over the merchandise. Dean wasn't really interested, but politely, if only halfheartedly, listened to her rambling.

Finally Sam came back with the EMF and three flashlights. He handed one to Dean and tossed Alex the other. "Let's go."

Alex followed them up the winding stairs. At the very top, they searched for the entrance to the attic. "Over here," Dean called. They walked over to him. He had opened a small paneling in the wall, barely large enough for Sam to get through. "Any volunteers?"

"Alex." Sam pushed her towards the entrance.

"What?" Alex spluttered, backing away. "No way, man."

"You got the short straw."

"Because you're short," Dean added.

Alex huffed. "My height can't your reason for everything."

"My height's _your_ reason for everything," Sam pointed out. Alex huffed again, but flicked on her flashlight, climbing through the hole in the wall. "You still alive?" Sam called.

"Yes." Alex shot back. "Sorry to disappoint." She moved out of the way to let Sam through, shining her light around. The room was full of old furniture and boxes, and everything was coated with a thick layer of dust. "Ugh." She pointed her flashlight in Sam's face. He shied away at the light. "This place is worse than Bobby's."

Sam stepped forward, letting Dean through, and pulled out the EMF detector, turning it on. It immediately began buzzing. "The EMF's going nuts," he said quietly.

Dean stood up. "Great," he grumbled. "We've got a real ghost, and a bunch of dudes pretending to be us poking at it."

"No way this ends well."

"You know, it serves them right," Dean added.

"Dean."

"I'm just saying." He glanced over at Alex. "Know what we're dealing with?"

"Uh, maybe?" Alex narrowed her eyes. "I remember the convention. And the real ghosts. And scalping. That's all. If I remember anything else . . ."

"You'll tell us. I know," Dean finished for her. "Save it."

"Scalping?" Sam looked down at her.

"Yeah. One of the boys was scalped."

Dean grunted. He headed deeper into the attic, flashlight bobbing up and down. Alex followed. Sam veered off, searching the other side. Alex shined her flashlight over everything, not sure what they were searching for. She opened her mouth to ask, but was interrupted.

"My mommy loves me," a small voice said. Alex jumped. Sam turned, his flashlight illuminating a small boy sitting in the corner, hands covering his head. Dean hurried over to Sam, and Alex followed at a slower pace. "I said, my mommy loves me," the boy repeated.

"I'm sure she does," Sam replied, unsure what to do.

"My mommy loves me this much." The boy lifted his hands to gesture, revealing his head. Fear shot through Alex as she saw the gaping wound, revealing white bone, streaked with dark red blood. She felt the two brothers stiffen beside her. The boy shimmered, and disappeared.

They stood there is shock for a few seconds. Finally Dean spoke. "We should go."

"Yeah."

They quickly left the attic, hurrying back down to the bar. Sam excused himself, pulling out his phone, saying he was going to make a call to the Historical Society. Dean and Alex sat down at a nearby table. They sat in silence, and Alex's eyes started to wander about the room. She saw Becky sitting with Chuck. Becky looked up, catching Sam's eye. He gave her a half nod, still talking on the phone. Alex nudged, Dean motioning to Becky with her head. Dean looked over in time to see Becky lick her hand, then blow it at Sam. Alex turned to see Sam's reaction, laughing. Sam didn't find it funny; instead, he looked very disconcerted, and attempted a wave back. Alex turned back to Dean as Sam hung up and approached them.

"Not funny, Alex," he told her, seeing her smile.

"Hey." Alex held up her hands defensively. "You're the one who didn't want my help."

"Yeah, because your help wasn't helping." Sam shot back. He turned to Dean. "So I just talked with a guy with the County Historical Society."

"And?"

"Not only did Leticia Gore butcher four sons, but one of them was her own son."

"Her son." Dean repeated.

"Yeah. According to the police at the time, she scalped the kid."

"Oh that's it," Dean said angrily. "I'm going to deep fry this bitch extra crispy. Dude say where she was buried?"

"Probably in a cemetery?" Alex suggested helpfully.

"He doesn't know." Sam said.

"Check it out." Alex recognized the voice. It was one of the LARPer's. "There is the orphanage, here's the carriage house, and right there, the cemetery."

"You think that's where Leticia's planted?" the guy playing Dean growled. Alex snickered at the bad acting. Sam stood up.

"It's worth a shot," the first guy said. Sam approached, reaching out to touch the map. "Hey! Hey!" the man protested.

"Hey, do you mind?" the second man stood up, grabbing the map.

Sam turned to Dean. "It's real. A century old, at least, and he's right. There's a cemetery on the grounds."

"Where'd you get that?" Dean asked fake Dean.

"It's called a game, pal. It ain't called charity," fake Dean growled.

Dean sighed. "Yeah right. Gimme the map, Chuckles."

"Yeah, well you're the Chuckles, Chuckles. And Dean don't listen to nobody." Fake Dean pulled back his jacket slightly to reveal a small plastic gun. Alex rolled her eyes.

"Dean, cool it," fake Sam warned.

Dean looked like he had had enough. He reached to pull out his own gun. "Dean!" Sam protested.

"What?" he asked. "They're fucking annoying!" Alex bit her lip, trying not to smile. Almost as an instinct, she touched her gun, which was beneath her jacket.

"Look, guys." Sam said. "We all wanna find the bones, right? We just thought it'd be faster if we all worked together."

Fake Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "Fine," fake Sam said. "We, ah, we get the Sizzler gift card."

"Fine," Dean rolled his eyes.

"And we get to be Sam and Dean," Fake Dean added. Alex adverted her gaze from real Sam and Dean. Sam noticed, kicking her in the leg.

"Fine." Dean rolled his eyes again.

"Yes," Fake Dean whispered.

"We'll go get our stuff," Sam said. "Meet us here in three minutes." He turned towards Alex. Stay here." He dropped his voice. "Don't let them run off."

Alex smiled, rolling her eyes. She watched them head off towards the car.

"So, who are you suppose to be? Dean?" fake Dean studied her.

Alex held out a hand. "Name's Alex. And you are?"

"Dean," Fake Dean replied in a deep voice.

"I'm serious. Real names."

Fake Dean looked down at the ground. "Damien." he said in his normal voice. "This is Barnes."

"Ah. Nice to meet you." Alex took a seat on the table, looking around. "So, uh, what's your favorite book?" she asked, trying to start up a conversation.

"Asylum," Damien replied quickly.

"I like _No Rest for the Wicked_ ," Barnes admitted.

"That's a good one." Alex tipped her head to one side, scratching the back of her neck mindlessly.

"Yeah. What about you?"

Alex shrugged. "Dunno. Probably _Mystery Spot_. The Trickster's pretty sweet. The next round of books are going to be good. Just a heads up."

"Alex." Chuck caught up to her.

"Chuck." Alex smiled. "Sam and Dean will be back soon if you want to talk. There's this ghost, and people poking at it. No biggie."

All of her words seemed to evade the prophet. "Uh, yeah, that's, that's nice. Can, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Mr. Edlund?" Damien asked, pushing his way past Alex. "It's an honor, sir."

"Uh, yes. Nice to meet you. I need to talk with Alex first."

At the moment, Sam and Dean came back, carrying their bags. "Let's go," Sam called.

"Sorry, Chuck. Can it wait?" Alex asked apologetically.

"Uh, yeah. I guess." Chuck trailed off, watching her go.

Alex walked over to Sam and Dean. "Damien. Barnes." She pointed to the two fans in turn. "In case you were wondering."

"Hm." Dean huffed. "Thanks."

"Okay, remember." Damien walked over to them. "I'm Dean, he's Sam. You're Rufus," he told Sam, "and you're Bobby," he told Dean. Then he glanced at Alex. "And you're still Alex."

"Never stopped," Alex mumbled.

Damien led them outside and down a skinny path. Him and Barnes quickly pulled ahead. "Hey, Rufus, Bobby. Would you hurry it up?" He called over his shoulder.

"You alright?" Sam asked Dean.

"I'm trying to be," Dean grumbled. Alex smiled in the darkness.

"So where were we?" Barnes asked.

"Ah, Dr. Ellicott just zapped your brain," Damien reminded him.

"Right got it." Barnes lowered his voice into character. "Why are we even here, Dean? You just following dad's footsteps like a good little soldier? Are you that desperate for approval?" Alex let out a low whistle, knowing this wasn't going to end well with the two Winchesters. Alex looked up at Dean. He was looking at Sam, his face asking, _'How much longer do we have to put up with this?'_ Sam frowned in response.

"This isn't you talking, Sam," Damien growled. Alex couldn't help but laugh at that pathetic voice. Both Damien and Barnes turned around to look at her. Sam looked down at her, not very happy. "What's wrong, Alex?" Damien growled in that same voice.

"N-Nothing," Alex gasped out, "I can't . . ." she trailed off, trying to breathe. Sam quickly grew annoyed, giving her a rough shove. Alex didn't have time to brace herself, and she fell to the ground. "Ow," she whined. "Sammy."

"He's not Sam," Damien complained, pulling himself out of character. "He's Rufus."

"Besides, only Dean can call him 'Sammy'," Barnes added.

"That's not true." Alex stood back up. "Right, Sammy?"

"Don't call me Sammy," Sam said crossly.

"You guys aren't even doing it right." Damien complained again. "In the books, Sam's the one who likes Alex. They're suppose to be, like, friends."

"Ah, we're more than friends, right Sammy?"

Sam just glared at her.

"Just kidding." Alex rolled her eyes. "Sam was nice until he tried to kill me, uh, Alex, because Dean went to Hell, and then again after Dean came back."

"What are you talking about?" Barnes looked confused.

"Never mind," Alex grumbled.

Damien and Barnes turned back to their little game. "Where were we? Right." Barnes cleared his throat. "That's the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic."

"So what are you going to do, Sam. Are you going to kill me?" Damien growled, back in character.

"I'm sick of you telling me what to do."

"All right, you know what?" Dean interrupted them. "That's it. That is it."

"What' wrong, Bobby?" Damien turned, slightly irritated at being interrupted again.

Dean hesitated, so angry he could barely speak. "I'm not Bobby, okay?" he finally spat. "You're not Sam. You're not Dean." He pointed to each of them in turn. "What is wrong with you? Why in the hell would you choose to be these guys?"

Both Damien and Barnes seemed taken aback. "Because we're fans," Damien said in his normal voice. "Like you."

"No. I am not a fan, ok? Not fans. In fact, I think that the Sam and Dean story sucks. It is not fun. It is not entertaining. It is a river of crap that would send most people _howling_ to the nut house. So you listen to me. Their pain is not for your amusement. I mean, do you think they enjoy being treated like, like circus freaks?"

"Uh, I don't think they care because they're _fictional characters_." Damien explained.

"Oh, they care. Believe me, they care a lot." Dean stormed by them, back down the path. They watched him go.

"He, uh, takes the stories really seriously," Sam told them. Alex hurried after Dean, quickly catching up to him.

"Dean . . ."

"Leave me alone," Dean growled.

Alex hesitated, but did as he asked, stopping to let him walk ahead. She let Damien and Barnes pass her as well, and waited for Sam to pass as well. He didn't. Instead he stopped beside her. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," Alex sighed. "I'm fine. Let's go." She walked with Sam down the path until the reached the graveyard. They silently began searching the graves, looking for the right headstones.

"I found the four boys," Dean called quietly.

"And here's Leticia Gore," Sam added.

Alex shone her flashlight around, its beam resting on Damien and Barnes. "Uh, what are you doing?" Dean asked them, seeing them looking in the long grass.

"We're looking for bones, genius." Damien said, back in character. "They got to be around her somewhere."

"Uh, yeah. Well, generally, bones are in the ground," Alex informed them. There was a loud thump as Sam dropped his bag. He bent down, opening it.

"Yeah, I know that," Damien said in that voice, "I just . . ." He paused, seeing Sam pull a shovel out of the bag and hand it to Alex.

"Just what?" she asked, taking the shovel and unfolding it.

"Wait, hold on. Are you guys serious?" Damien asked.

"Deadly." Dean took his own shovel out of his bag.

"We're not really digging up graves, you guys. We're just playing a game."

"Trust us." Dean told them, giving them a smile. "You want to win the game, right?"

They headed over to the grave of Miss Leticia Gore, and started digging. Alex and Dean started, and after a while, Sam stepped in and Alex stepped back. They continued trading off until they had cleared all of the dirt away from the coffin. Alex jumped out of the grave, taking Dean's shovel. A sharp wind blew the leaves on the ground, and Alex brush hair out of her face. She heard Dean pull off the coffin's lid, and both Barnes and Damien gasped.

"That's not a plastic skeleton. T-That's a skeleton skeleton," Damien stuttered.

"You guys just dug up a real grave," Barnes whispered.

"Uh, yeah." Alex looked down at the bones. She sat down, dangling her feet into the grave.

"Yeah," Dean agreed.

"You guys are nuts."

"I thought you said you wanted to be hunters," Sam asked.

"Hunters aren't real, man." Damien's voice rose in panic. "This isn't real." They both turned to walk away.

"You guys have seriously lost your grip on this . . ." Barnes turned to face Sam and froze.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Sam," Alex said quietly, slowly standing up. "Behind you?"

"Naughty, naughty naughty." Sam spun around to see a woman in old clothes. She flickered,and slapped Sam, sending him flying across the cemetery. She heard Damien and Barnes running. Dean climbed out of the grave, and Alex hurried over to the duffle bags. She heard a loud thud and looked over to see Barnes trip and fall to the ground.

"Barnes!" Damien called. He turned and hurried back to his friend.

"Alex!" Dean tossed her a bag of salt. She obediently began pouring it over the bones.

"Oh my God!" She looked up to see Damien and Barnes frozen, Miss Gore standing in front of them.

"Naughty, naughty, naughty," the ghost cackled again.

"Alex." Dean kept pouring the gasoline over the bones. Alex finished pouring the salt. She heard screams, and looked up. She heard a click, and a whoosh of flames. The ghost burst into flames, burning up. Then it was gone. Alex looked down at the burning grave. She held out her hands, which were slightly numb from the cold winter air.

"Sam?" Alex looked for the hunter. At the sound of her voice, he struggled to his feet. She smiled in relief that he was okay.

"Real enough for you?" Dean asked Damien and Barnes. They turned to look at Dean, their faces contorted in horror. Then they ran. Alex sighed, watching the grave burn. They stood there until the bones slowly turned black. Then, on a silent word, they started to shovel the dirt back into the hole, smothering the fire and the bones. Alex gave Sam her shovel, using her foot to kick the dirt back into place.

 

 **W** ithin five minutes, they had finished, repacked, and exited the graveyard. Sam led the way back into convention, weaving through the lobby and into the bar. There they found Damien and Barnes.

"That was . . . really . . ." Barnes was saying.

"Awful, right?" Dean finished. They both turned to look at the three of them. "Exactly. Round's on us, guys." Dean slapped Barnes on the shoulder, putting a ten dollar bill on the table.

"See you around." Sam told them, and they turned to leave.

"Hey." Damien stopped them. "How'd you know how to do all that?"

Alex stopped, back facing them, letting out a small smile.

"We, uh, read the books," Sam lied. Dean nodded. They continued to the door. On the way, they passed Chuck, who was talking with the convention manager.

Dean stopped to face him. "Hey, Chuck. Good luck with the Supernatural books, and screw you very much." With that, he walked to the doors.

"Friends of yours?" the convention manager asked.

"Hmm. I'd say not. Alex." Chuck stopped her. "I need to talk to you."

Alex opened her mouth to respond, but stopped when she heard Dean say, "That's weird." She turned to see Dean and Sam standing by the door, which wasn't budging, no matter how hard the pulled on it.

"Definitely," Sam agreed.

"Hang on," Alex told Chuck. "What's wrong?" she called.

"Damn door won't budge." Dean dropped his bag at the door, and Sam did the same.

"Sorry." Alex turned to Chuck. "Is this important, like, can't wait another minute important, or is it I could tell you later important?"

"Uh, it can wait, I guess," Chuck began. Alex took that as the go ahead, and hurried off to Dean, who had headed upstairs.

"What's up?" She asked him, watching him try and pry a window open.

"I told you. The door's locked. And so is the window," Dean informed her. Sam came back. "Hey, anything?"

"Every exit's locked, almost like something's . . ."

"Keeping us in?" Dean guessed, then sighed. He frustratedly pounded on the window.

"Yeah." Sam agreed. "This is bad."

"Gee, you think Sammy?" He turned to Alex. "Remember this part?" Alex forced out a apologetic smile in response. He groaned. "Some use you are."

"Hey," Alex protested. "You want good future telling, go ask Chuck over there. It's been two full years since I've seen the damn show."

A scream interrupted them. All three's heads snapped up. The woman Dean had been flirting with ran out of a room, and Dean caught her in his arms. "Don't go in there," she begged them.

"Get downstairs, okay?" Dean told her. "Go, go!" The woman did as she was told. Dean and Sam walked into the room, and Alex followed.

There, in the corner of the library, was the boy they had seen in the attic, still clutching his head. "Why did you do that?" he asked them pitifully. "Why did you send my mommy away?"

"Ah, maybe because of the high and tight she gave you, hmm? How about a little thanks?" Dean asked, still very much annoyed. Sam cleared his throat in warning. "Well, I'm just saying a little gratitude would be be nice once and a while," Dean defended himself.

"My mommy didn't do this to me."

"What? Then who did?" Sam asked, surprised. The boy disappeared.

"Shit." Alex closed her eyes. "Dammit!" She hit her head against the wall.

"Calm down," Dean told her. "What's going on?"

"Dammit." She cursed herself again. "I am thick! Thick." She hit her forehead with her palm. "Thick and slow."

"Why?" Dean asked slowly. "What's wrong."

"I mean, seriously. How did I forget?" She looked up at the Winchesters, her voice almost a whine. "I just wanted a damn t-shirt."

"Alex."

"Sorry." Alex pulled it together. "It wasn't Gore. It was the boys. They murdered her son, and they're haunting the place. The only reason they haven't kill anyone else was because Gore was keeping them in place, but now she's gone . . ."

"So now the boys are going to kill us?" Dean exploded. "Thanks for telling us."

She was saved from responding by another scream. They tore down the hallway, stopping at the sight of a body laying on the floor. Alex's breath caught in her throat as she saw part of the man's scalp was missing, the blood pooling on the floor. She adverted her eyes. Damn.

"Come on." Dean hurried off down the stairs and into the lobby. It was empty. "Any plans?"

"We should get everyone in one place." Alex closed her eyes. "Preferably a room that we can seal with salt, keep everyone safe. Where is everybody?"

"In there." Sam caught up to them. He pointed to the room where they had had the Q&A session earlier that day.

"Round up all the staff," she told Dean. "Samster, with me."

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance, but didn't protest. Sam followed her into the large room. Chuck was up on stage, answering even more questions. "Well, guys, I guess we're out of time," he was saying. "So thank you for your incredibly probing and rigorous questions, and have a good . . ."

Sam ran up onto the stage, whispering something in Chuck's ear.

"Hey, what?" he asked. "Holy crap!" Alex flinched as the concern spread through the crowd. Sam noticed and covered the mic with his hand. He whispered something else, and Chuck nodded. They exchanged a few more words, and Sam walked off the stage. "Hey, good news," Chuck said. "I got much more to tell you. I guess."

The door opened, and the hotel manager walked into the room, followed by a line of the other staff. "Buddy, I got work to do," he told Dean.

"You're going to want to see this, trust me," Dean promised. "It's going to be a hell of a show." The rest of the staff filed in, and Dean closed the door. He and Sam immediately began laying salt they had had in their duffle bags, which were now in the corner of the room.

"Ah, what does the future hold for Sam and Dean?" Chuck repeated, catching Alex's attention. "Well, how do you feel about angels? Yeah, because let me tell you, they're not nearly as lame as you think."

Alex chuckled.

"Okay. Obviously the legends of Leticia Gore are ass-backwards. So what's our new theory?"

"Yeah. So let's say those three boys were playing cowboys and indians," Sam theorized.

"LARPing as cowboys and indians," Dean joked.

"Okay. So they catch Gore's son and scalp him."

"Mom gets pissed, offs the three kids then herself."

"So how are we going to stop those three little brats?" Sam turned to Alex. "We've got to burn their bones. The doors won't budge, and our guns aren't going to do anything."

"Guys." Alex motioned to herself. "You've got me."

"Fat lot of good you've done us so far."

"Yeah, but I remember now. And it's all coming back fast. We need to distract the kids. Make them think Miss Gore is back. That'll loosen their grip on the building, and we can slip out."

"Well, great," Dean replied sarcastically. "Too bad we burned her bones. Where are we going to get a new ghost?" Alex glanced backwards at the the actor who had played Gore. "Oh," Dean breathed. "Got it."

"You too handle this. I'll go help Chuck." She looked up to see him struggling on stage. "Good luck."

She headed up onto the stage. "Hey, Chuck," she smiled. "Want some help?"

"Uh, yeah." Chuck nodded. "That could be nice." he covered the mic with his hand. "There's another mic over there." He pointed to the podium. Alex retrieved the second microphone. Becky handed her a chair, and she took it. Chuck sat down in his. "Uh, what do you want to say?" he asked her.

"Hey." Alex turned to the crowd. "How's it going?"

"Get off the stage, _Dean_ ," one of the fans called.

Alex pulled an offended face. "Dean? I am not Dean. Why would you think that?"

"Uh, 'cause you're dressed like him?" the fan offered helpfully.

"Ah." Alex looked down at her clothes. "That actually explains a lot. No, my name is Alex. Hello." She smiled. Silence.

"Uh, hello," another fan called.

"I like you," Alex told him. "You answered me."

"Y-Your welcome." The fan turned away.

Alex laughed. "Okay. Obviously you guys aren't getting this. I'm Alex." Still nothing. "From the books?" She sighed. "I'm _not-actually-a-winchester_ , guys, and I'm the inspiration for Alex as well. I know everything about Sam, Dean, and especially about Alex."

"Right." The first fan stood up. "Sure you are. Want to put that to the test?"

"Bring it." Alex seemed unfazed. She saw Damien and Barnes stand up and exit the room, but didn't say anything.

"You said you knew the future. Why didn't you save Dean from hell?"

"Didn't ease into that one, did you?" Alex pulled a thoughtful face. "It isn't really easy to explain. I mean, I knew Dean was coming back, and I didn't want to change anything in this universe. If everything changed, I'd no longer be any use, and staying useful is very important around here. Besides, I think I was still in denial about this being the real world and not just some joke." The question seemed to satisfy the man, as he sat down. More people raised their hands. Alex turned to Chuck. "Can I tell them stuff about the new books?" she asked. "I won't give away any spoilers."

"Yeah, that's, that's fine." Chuck didn't seem to care. "As long as they, you know."

Alex nodded. "Okay. If you guys want, I'll tell you about the new books. _But_ , you have to promise not to reveal what happens to anyone until the books come out, okay?"

Agreements rose from the crowd. Alex picked a person, and he stood up. "What's in the future for Alex?" he asked.

"Well. "Alex pulled her feet up onto the chair, crossing them. "She tags along for a few of Sam and Dean's adventures. At first, they weren't really happy about it, but, they don't mind anymore. I don't think."

"What's her relationship with Sam and Dean?"

Alex laughed. "Well, let's just say me and Sam don't get along very well. He just doesn't understand how awesome I am. Well, that and the fact that he tried to kill me." There several voices of protest. Alex held up her hand. "Please. Let's be honest. Sammy is a bit dysfunctional." More protests. "Okay, okay. I tease Sam _a lot_. All the time, about basically everything. But he did try to kill me. He wasn't happy that Dean went to Hell. And I can't blame him. But then, four months later when Dean came back, he tried to kill me again. I mean, first he tries to kill me because Dean's dead, and then he tries to kill me because Dean's back. I can't win." She stopped. "That answer your question? Oh yeah. Me and Dean get along fine. He's like the best big brother in the world." More hands. "You."

"Mr. Edlund said there would be angels?"

"Oh yeah. Lots of angels," Alex smiled. "My favorite is Cas. He's pretty cute." She turned to Chuck. "Don't tell him I said that."

"I don't tell him anything."

"Right." Alex cleared her throat. "So what do you want to know about angels?"

"Uh, why are they there?"

"One word. Apocalypse. Michael, Lucifer, the whole shebang. Hopefully we can stop it. If not, sorry. _Viva la vida_." Awkward silence. Alex laughed, hoping to disperse the tension. "Any other questions? Stupid things Sammy's done?"

"Why are you dressed like Dean?" the first fan called.

"It's not like I have my own clothes," Alex told him. "Besides, eight days after I showed up, Dean went to Hell. And it wasn't like he was using them. So I wore them. Still do. I don't think he minds."

"How did Alex end up in the Supernatural universe? What was her life like before?"

"Hm." Alex took a deep breath. "It's not much better than it is now. My mom died when I was seven. My father grew increasingly depressed, started drinking, gambling. One day, when I was twelve, he just got up and left. I lived on my own for almost a month before my neighbor found out what was going on and I was put into the foster system. My first foster family was really nice. I live with them for four years. Then they died. In a car crash." Alex paused, unprepared for the emotions that came flooding back. "My next family weren't as nice. They didn't care for me. I was really nothing more than a slave. Menial task force. I would go off for days, and they wouldn't even notice. I'm not even sure if they noticed I'm gone. They probably think I moved away.

"How did I end up here? Well, I was walking down the street. Nothing very exciting. One moment the ground was there, the next it wasn't, and I was falling. There was a flash of white, and then, I was falling from the sky. And I hit Dean's car. He wasn't very happy about that. But that's what happened."

One of the fans looked at Chuck. "Is she right?"

"A-About what?" Chuck stuttered.

"About everything."

"Uh, uh yeah."

"Where did you come up with the idea of Alex?"

Alex looked over a Chuck, eyes questioning. "She, uh, just came to me one day," he stammered out. Alex rolled her eyes.

"How does Dean get out of Hell?" A person yelled.

"Well, someone, or something, pulls him out," Alex said slowly. "Someone fairly good looking, dangerous, and an overall badass. Not going to say who. And no, it wasn't me." She laughed at her own joke. A few people nervously chuckled as well. "I mean, I meet all of those criteria, but it wasn't me. Any more questions?"

A shy girl raised her hand. "From reading the last book, I got the feeling that you and Sam had a, thing. Is that true?"

Alex looked shocked. "Like, a thing thing? I mean, we have a I-tease-him-and-he-tries-to-kill-me thing, but not like a thing thing. Seriously? You got that from the book?" She looked over at Chuck, who just shrugged. "But Sammy? Everyone knows Dean's cuter," she added with a chuckle. "Don't tell him I said that."

The audience looked bored, and Alex sighed.

 

 **A** few questions later, the hotel manager stood up. "Excuse me." Chuck spoke, standing up. "You really can't leave. Please sir." Alex stood up as well. The manager continued towards the door. "Don't open that door!" Chuck yelled. The manager didn't listen. He pulled open the door, breaking the salt line in the process.

"Damn," Alex cursed aloud. A boy appeared in the doorway, a large grin across his face. The manager stepped back, shocked. The audience stood up, just as stunned . The boy held up a large knife. Alex rushed forward, but Chuck was faster. He flew forward, grabbing a iron stand in the corner. With a mighty swing, he sliced through the ghost, dispelling it. He slammed the door, barring it with his body. "I said nobody leaves, dammit. Now somebody salt this door."

Alex grabbed the bag of salt in the corner, fixing it. "You okay?" she asked the manager. He nodded, still in shock. Alex headed back up to the stage. "Okay, listen up. You want to know what's going on? Ghosts? Real. And we have three really pissed off ones now." Murmurs rose up from the crowd. "The whole Leticia Gore legend? Ass-backwards." Yes, she quoted Dean. "She didn't kill four boys. Well, she did, but she only killed three. The forth, her son, was killed by those three boys. They scalped him. Gore flipped out, killed the other three, then offed herself. She haunts the place, yeah, but she keeps the boys in line." she paused, slightly embarrassed."We might have accidentally burned Gore's bones. Yes, I should have remembered from the show, but it has been two years. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go help Sam and Dean. Stay here." She ran back down the isle. "Keep them here," she muttered to Chuck. He nodded.

Alex slipped out into the hall, looking back and forth. She ran down the hall, keeping her footsteps as silent as possible. She stopped outside the library, freezing. There was Sam and Dean, laying on the floor, two ghost boys on top of them, knifes in hand. Both Sam and Dean were struggling to keep the knife out of their heads. Alex saw an iron poker lying on the ground. "Hang on." she yelled, picking it up. She swung at the nearest boy, dispelling him. The next second, it was thrown from her hands, and a heavy weight knocked her to the ground. She struggled, but to no avail. Then, suddenly, the room lit up at the three boys caught on fire, vanishing in flames. Alex lay on the ground, stunned. Sam and Dean gasped for breath. Finally Dean stood up, walking across the room to pick up his crowbar. "Maybe we should put these things on bungees," he suggested.

Under other circumstances, Alex would have laughed. However, she struggled to her feet, looking over to see that Sam was okay. He was. He stood up, joining Dean. "Now what?" Alex asked, looking over at the two hunters. "What about the guests still in the room? We should go tell them everything's okay."

"Do they know the difference?"

Alex remained silent, and Sam and Dean turned to look at her. "What?" she finally exclaimed. "That ass of a manager walked out the door. Almost got scalped. What was I suppose to tell them?"

Dean let out a sigh. "Fine. Go tell them it's safe."

Alex nodded and hurried down to the room. She flung open the door, stepping in to see Chuck and the audience sitting quietly. She cleared her throat. "Um, attention please?" Everyone had already turned to look at her, so she continued. "Uh, everything in under control. No more problems." she looked over at the clock: it read 11:45. "So, I figured you guys all have a room here? Time for bed, I suppose. Thanks for your cooperation." She ended with a shrug. The audience started to file out, whispering quietly to themselves. Alex saw Chuck and Becky, deep in conversation. "Hey." She waved them down. "So, people are actually staying at this hotel, right?" Chuck nodded.

"Alex." Alex turned at Dean's voice.

She bounded over to them, adrenaline still pumping through her veins. "Hey. What's up?"

"We're going to get a room here. Or do you want to go back to the other motel?"

"No, here is fine." Alex smiled. "Come on. I'm tired." Dean walked off toward the front desk.

"No you're not," Sam noted, smiling as well.

"Yes, I am." Alex objected.

"Hey, uh, I got you something." Sam held out his hand. "Happy birthday."

Alex took the black pile of fabric, unfolding it. "Got Salt," she read, grinning. "Thanks Sam."

"Yeah. It's nothing."

Sam turned his back, and Alex saw her chance, jumping onto his back. "I'm still tired," she insisted. "Too tired to walk up the stairs. You're going to have to carry me," she joked.

"You wish." Sam shot back, trying to dump her off.

"Birthday piggyback ride," Alex insisted. When Sam still tried to dump her off, she added, "Too weak?"

"Never," Sam protested, supporting her legs with his arms. He carried her across the room toward Chuck.

"Onward, Moose!" Alex joked, then rested her head on his shoulder.

Sam came to a halt. "Hey, Chuck. Becky." He acknowledged the woman hesitantly. "We're booking a room here for the night. So, if you need us, we'll be close."

"Uh, yeah, thanks." Chuck adverted his gaze.

Sam carried Alex back across the room, back slightly bent under the weight. Alex had to duck as they passed through the door, her head brushing the doorframe. "Hey," he greeted his brother. Dean stared at him like he had grown a second head. "What?"

"Uh, nothing, nothing." Dean blinked in confusion. "Just, uh, never mind."

Sam nodded, dropping Alex's legs. She slid off his back with a huff of protest.

 

 **T** hey were woken up the next morning by sirens. They quickly made their way outside where an ambulance and several other emergency response vehicles had been parked. "Looks like someone found that guy's body," Alex mumbled. Sam nodded in agreement, glancing over a group of fans who were talking with the police. Alex watched the paramedics put a covered body into the ambulance. "Wait. Where's Dean?" She looked around to see him talking with Damien and Barnes. She hurried over.

"The real Dean," Dean was saying.

The two men looked at him, then started laughing. "Ah, yeah right. Me too!" Barnes chuckled.

"Get the hell out of here, Dean." Barnes joked.

Alex looked up at Dean, who seemed slightly disappointed they didn't realize he wasn't lying. He forced a smile. "Well, anyways. Thanks. Really." Dean started to walk away.

"You're wrong, you know." Damien stopped him.

Dean turned back. "Sorry?" he asked.

"About _Supernatural_. No offense, but I'm not sure you get what the stories are about."

Dean smirked. "Is that so?"

"Alright. In real life, he sells stereo equipment, I fix copiers. Our lives suck. But to wake up every morning and save the world, to have a brother who would die for you. Well, who wouldn't want that?"

The hunter considered it. "Maybe you've got a point. You know, you two don't make a bad team yourselves. How did you meet each other anyways?"

"Oh, well we met online," Barnes explained. "Supernatural chat room."

"Oh. Well it must be nice to get out of your parent's basement. Make some friends."

"We're more than friends." Damien took Barnes' hand. "We're partners." Barnes rested his head on Damien's shoulder, his tall height making awkward. Alex bit her lip, trying not to laugh. That wouldn't be nice. But she wasn't going to let Dean forget this one.

"Oh." Dean seemed shocked as well. "Well, howdy partners." He looked at Alex, seeing her expression. He shoved her away. "Go find Sam or something."

"Yes _Dean_." Alex turned and walked away, finally letting her smile show. She hurried over to Sam, who was talking to Chuck and Becky.

"Oh hey. Chuck. If you really want to publish more books, I guess that's okay with us."

The prophet looked very excited. "Wow. Really?"

"No. Not really. We have guns and we will find you."

"Oh. Okay. No more books."

Sam turned and started to walk away. Becky hurried after him, stopping him a few feet away.

Alex turned to Chuck. "You can publish the books."

"But Sam--"

"Yeah, I heard him. But I get it. You need to eat and get money and stuff. That's cool with me. I promise I won't let them find you with their guns." She lowered her voice. "Just, keep the embarrassing stuff about me to a minimum, okay?"

"O-okay," Chuck nodded.

Alex started to walk away. She spun back around. "Oh! There was something you needed to tell me?"

"Uh, yeah. It's about Cas and . . ." he trailed off. "Uh, never mind. It-it's nothing."

Alex narrowed her eyes, studying him. "Okay," she shrugged. "See you around, I guess." She glanced over at Becky, who was still talking to Sam. She headed off to find the Impala. Dean was already there, leaning against it. "Hey."

"Say. Nothing," Dean said abruptly.

"Fine," Alex laughed. She climbed onto the car, sitting cross-legged on the hood.

A minute later, Sam approached. "You okay?" he asked Dean.

"Yeah, you know? I think I'm good."

"Well, you're not going to believe it, but I got a lead on the Colt."

"What?"

"Long story. I'll tell you on the way?"

"What are you waiting for?" Dean circled around and got into the car. Alex slid off, and got in as well, slamming the door behind her. "Gentle," Dean warned.

Alex rolled her eyes. Dean started the car and drove away, leaving the convention. "What did you learn about the Colt?" he asked Sam.

"Well, apparently, the Colt wasn't given to Lilith. It was given to Crowley."

"Crowley?" Dean echoed.

"Oh! Crowley." Alex sucked in a breath. "I love Crowley. Well, not actually love, more of a love-hate kind of thing. He's a demon. But, yeah. Sorry."

Dean glanced back at her. "Sorry, what?"

"Eyes on the road," Alex told him. "Sorry. I forgot he shows up for this," she apologized to Sam. "It has been over a year and all."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Crowley. He's a demon. Powerful-ish demon. Will be powerful and important later on. And yes, he does have the Colt."

"So where do we find this, Crowley guy?" Dean asked.

"Uh, not sure. Sorry." Alex screwed her face in concentration. "Um, he's a crossroads demon. Was. He's been promoted, but I think he still does some deals, maybe." She dug around in her pocket for her phone. She pulled it out, dialing. "Hey, Cassie. We're in Vermillion, Ohio. On Route 327? Currently moving."

"Okay." Castiel's voice sounded next to hers, and she jumped, hanging up.

"Didn't take you long."

"I was nearby. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Alex leaned back in her seat. "But Sammy's got a lead on the Colt."

"Yeah. A demon named Crowley." Sam looked back at the angel. "Apparently he has the Colt, not Lilith like we thought."

"Yeah. Have you ever heard of him?" Alex asked. "I'm pretty sure he's one of those crossroads demons, but I'm not sure if he is anymore."

"You would like me to find him." Castiel guessed.

"If it isn't too much trouble. It would be faster if you helped," she added quickly. "Seeing that that's kind of your thing."

"Yes." Castiel nodded. "I will see what I can do."

"Thanks." Alex smiled. She blinked, and he was gone.

"Now what?" Dean looked back at her.

"I don't know." Alex shrugged. "Might take a couple days to find him. Bobby's maybe?"

"Already headed there," Dean promised. He turned on the music.

 

 **"O** kay, so here's a question." Alex leaned over the front seat in between Sam and Dean. "Demons can't cross a salt line, right? So, what kinds of salt? I mean they can't cross rock salt, table salt, but what about non NaCl salts? CaCl2, LiCl? Or, what percent of salt? Salt water?"

"Is this what you think about?"

"It's serious problem." Alex said humorously. After a short pause, she added, "What if there were some way to, like, bless the air, so demons couldn't come in. Ooh. What if we put holy water in a humidifier? Would that make the air holy? Keep the demons out?"

Both Sam and Dean were silent for a minute. Then both glanced back at her. "I don't know." Sam slowly admitted. "Maybe, I guess."

"So basically, we get a cheap humidifier, carry it around to the motels, and we have no more demon problems. Think about it. If it works, no more demons sneaking up if we're asleep. They'd just kind of scream and maybe fall down in pain? Or maybe it wouldn't hurt that bad. Just enough to cause unwanted discomfort? It's kind of like acid to them, isn't it?"

"Wow you talk a lot." Dean turned his eyes back to the road.

"It took you this long to figure it out?" Alex teased him gently.

 

**January 24th, 2010**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**T** hey arrived at Bobby's early in the evening. Alex jumped out of the car, hurrying up the steps. "Bobby? It be Alex."

"Alex?" Bobby's voice sounded from the inside room. "You okay?"

"Course I'm okay." Alex walked into the study. "Sam and Dean are here too. Sammy's got a lead on the Colt."

"Stop calling me Sammy." Sam entered, threatening her lightheartedly.

"Sammy."

"You got a lead, eh?" Bobby broke up their fighting.

"Yeah. Demon named Crowley. Alex thinks she remembers him."

Alex nodded. "Crossroads demon. Or at least, was crossroads demons. He's got the Colt."

"Anything else you know about him?"

"Nothing that'll help."

"Anything will help," Bobby reminded her.

Alex sighed, screwing up her face in concentration. "Scottish," she finally said.

"Scottish?" Sam sighed, sitting down in a chair. "That's the best you got?"

The girl shrugged. "Sorry. Told you it wouldn't help."

"Cas is out looking for him too," Dean chimed in, entering the room. "Hey Bobby."

"Hey boy. Happy birthday, and whatnot." The older hunter gave a small nod of acknowledgment. "So, where did you get this lead from?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, while Alex beamed. "You know the books, _Supernatural?_ Now get this: _Supernatural_ convention. Fans, books, souvenirs. They even had t-shirts. It was _epic._ "

"I'm not sure I'd use the word 'epic' to describe it," Dean began hesitantly.

"Well, there was that bad ghost who turned out to be the good ghost. We burned the good ghost and the three evil kid ghosts tried to scalp everyone." Alex shrugged. "But apart from that."

"What?" Bobby looked up at Dean.

"Ooh!" Alex interrupted. "And we met Gabriel. I like Gabriel. Except he threw me into a wall."

"Wait. Gabriel, as in the archangel Gabriel?" Bobby looked shocked.

"Oh yeah. He's been masquerading as the Trickster. Surprise." She let out a quiet laugh. "Mystery Spot. That was clever."

Sam kicked her in the shins, and Dean cuffed her on the head. "Ow," she complained. "Well _I_ thought it was clever."

"Start from the beginning." Bobby crossed his arms. Alex opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "Not you. Sam and Dean. I can't understand half the stuff you talk about."

Alex huffed, but knew he was telling the truth. She fell silent and listened to Sam and Dean.


	37. Abandon All Hope . . .

**January 28th, 2010**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**F** ive days passed, and there was no word. At one point, Sam and Dean went off, leaving Alex with Bobby. One day, the phone rang. "Got it," Alex called. She picked it up. "'Ello." 

"Bobby?" Dean's voice came over the phone. 

"Close. Alex." 

"Oh. Is Bobby there?" 

"Maybes. Why? You got a lead?" Alex guessed hopefully. They had spent the last five days feverishly looking for Crowley, but to no avail. "Did Cas find him?" 

"No," Dean replied slowly. 

"Are you lying? 'Cause I'll call Cas and he'll tell me if you're lying." 

"Okay. Fine." Dean sighed. "Cas found him." 

"Where?" Alex asked, interested. 

"Not too far from you. We'll get the Colt and be there by tomorrow night." 

"Uh, you're going to go in there alone?" Alex scoffed. "Not very smart, sorry." 

"Then what do you suggest?" Dean snapped, obviously irritated. 

"Just get back here, and we'll think of something. And don't do anything stupid." 

"Yes, Bobby." Dean's voice sounded very sarcastic, and Alex rolled her eyes. 

"I'm totally serious." 

"Okay, okay. Fine. We'll be there sometime tomorrow." He hung up. 

Alex did the same. "So you found Crowley, eh Cas?" she asked, talking to Castiel. "Good job, man. Always knew you could do it." 

"Thank you." Castiel appeared behind her. 

Alex was surprised by how tired he looked. "How are you doing?" she inquired. "You look kind of tired." 

Castiel looked down, apparently embarrassed. "It's been harder now that I've been cut off from heaven," he finally admitted. 

Alex looked at him pitifully. "I'm sure you'll be fine," she promised. "You ain't dying on me yet," she added as a joke. 

"I had no intention of dying," Castiel said seriously. 

"Huh? Oh, no." Alex quickly backtracked. "And it's going to stay that way." She let out a lighthearted grin. "We're going to be fine." 

"Who called?" Bobby's voice came from farther inside the house. 

When Alex glanced back behind her, Castiel was gone. "Uh, it was Dean," she yelled back. "Cas found Crowley, so now they're coming back here for a plan." 

"Oh." Bobby paused. "Keep me posted." 

"Will do." Alex rolled her eyes, returning to her work. 

 

**D** ean and Sam arrived late the next day. Bobby had called in Ellen and Jo, and now they were all sitting in the library. "How are we going to get in there?" Sam asked. 

"We could use bait?" Alex suggested. 

"We don't use bait," Dean stated firmly. 

"I think it's a good idea," Jo returned. "I could go up to the front door, say my car broke down, and then when this Crowley fellow walks out, you guys could hold that knife to him." 

Alex rubbed her shoulder, tugging the sleeve up to run fingers over a large bruise. It was fading, thankfully. She quickly lowered her sleeve. 

However, Bobby noticed. "What the hell?" He rolled closer to Alex. "What happened there?"

Alex lowered her eyes. "It's nothing," she promised. Seeing Bobby's face, she sighed and added, "Sam shoved me, and I fell. Landed on a rock. It's nothing, Bobby." 

The old hunter, turned on the Winchesters. "What were you thinking, boy?" he snapped. "How many times have I got to tell ya? You got to be gentle with her!"

"Bobby, it's fine." Alex tried to intervene. "I'm okay. I mean, I kind of deserved it. I found the convention funny, and couldn't help myself a couple of times."

"I'm gonna get a drink." Ellen stood up, excusing herself from the conversation. 

No one noticed. "A _couple_ times?" Bobby glared at Sam. "How many times did you hit her?" 

"Bobby."

"Twice," Dean answered. "I think he kicked her once too."

"It wasn't a hard kick!" Sam objected. "And I didn't mean for her to get hurt, okay?" 

Bobby huffed. "You can be rough and all with your brother, but if you touch her again, I'll shoot you." 

Alex stood up, tired of hearing this. "Be right back," she huffed before stalking out of the room. She passed Ellen on the way before opening the fridge, staring into it angrily. 

After a few seconds, she felt someone behind her. "I'm sorry." That was Sam. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Alex sighed. "I know. Bobby's just being a bitch. I pissed you off, and I honestly deserved it." 

Sam just grunted, and footsteps signaled his leave. Alex grabbed a coke out of the fridge and returned to the library. The other four hunters were still arguing, and Alex settled down on the couch, waiting for them to finish.

"Fine!" Dean threw his hands up. "We'll do it. But you're _not_ going in." 

"Fine." Jo seemed happy that she had won. 

"Fine," Dean repeated. He suddenly stood up. "Let's go." 

"Now?" Alex sprung up. 

"Not you." 

"Yes me," Alex retorted. "You can't say 'yes' to her and 'no' to me." 

"And why not?" Ellen put in. 

"Come on! You guys are going to like, kill Crowley or something. Can't let you do that. Not yet, at least."

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. "You can come," Dean finally said, "but you're not going in either." 

"We'll see," Alex muttered. "Let's go." Saying goodbye, she followed Sam, Dean, and Jo out to the Impala. She got into the backseat with Jo, leaning against the window. 

 

**T** hey drove for only a few hours. The sun set, leaving the road cloaked in darkness. Dean pulled the car onto the side of the road a block away from Crowley's mansion. Dean and Sam got out, and Jo followed. Alex waited a few minutes before following. She snuck through the trees, seeing a flash of orange light. She saw Sam, Dean and Jo standing over two bodies. 

Sam handed Jo a pair of wire cutters, and they headed off towards the mansion. Alex followed. Jo disappeared around the house, and Alex ran after Sam and Dean. They disappeared through the front door. Alex entered, and the lights suddenly went out. She followed Sam and Dean deeper into the house, losing them only once. 

She found them around one corner, and Alex heard Sam speak. "It's Crowley, right?" 

"So. The Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough." Alex heard the familiar Scottish accent. She stepped forward to see Sam holding the demon knife and Dean with his shotgun. "And who's this?" He turned to look at her. 

"Hey Crowley." Alex shot him a smile. "How's it going?" She studied him. Black suit, blue tie. Typical. 

The demon was slightly shocked by her friendliness, but refused to show it. "Could be going better, thank you very much." 

"Hm." Alex turned to Sam and Dean. 

"You're suppose to be waiting in the car," Dean growled. 

Alex shrugged. "Got bored. Besides, I had to make sure you didn't kill him." 

Crowley stepped forward, suddenly stopping. He knelt down, pulling up the corner of the rug. "Do you have any idea what the rug costs?" he asked angrily, turning his attention back to Sam and Dean. Alex looked down at it. A demon trap had been drawn on the bottom. 

Before Alex could react, two demons grabbed Sam and Dean. Alex stepped back, feeling the wall behind her. She didn't remember this part. Wasn't Crowley on their side? 

Crowley held up what Alex recognized to be the Colt. "This is it, right? This is what it's all about." He pointed it towards Dean, then pulled the trigger. Twice. The two demons fell dead. Alex let out a pent up breath. Good. 

"We need to talk. Privately." Crowley motioned them to follow. They did. Alex let Sam and Dean walk in front of her, trailing behind. He led them down a hallway. 

"What the hell is this?" Dean exclaimed, casting a glance at Sam and Alex as they entered a office room. 

Crowley examined the Colt. "Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?" he asked them. He looked up and waved his hand, and the door behind them slammed shut. Alex jumped, glancing back. "There's no reason you our anyone else should know this even exists, except that I told you." 

"You told us," Sam repeated slowly, looking over at Dean. 

"Rumors, innuendoes, sent out on the grapevine," the demon said, his lips curving in the faintest hint of a smile. 

"Why? Why tell us anything?" 

Instead of answering, Crowley lifted the gun, pointing it at Dean's face. He spoke. "I want you to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it in his face." 

Alex looked around, remembering it would do absolutely nothing. But she said nothing. 

"Uh-huh, okay." Dean sounded skeptical. "And why exactly would you want the devil dead?" 

Crowley lowered the gun and put it on the desk. "It's called survival," he explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Well, I forgot you three at best are functioning morons--" 

Alex pulled an offended face. Dean cut him off. "You're functioning . . . morons . . ." He trailed off. 

Crowley glanced at him, his point made. "Lucifer isn't a demon, remember?" He looked over at Alex. She met his gaze. "He's an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you're just filthy bags of pus." He turned his back to them, picking up his drink that was sitting on the desk. "If that's the way he thinks about you, then what does he think about us?" 

"But he created you," Sam argued. 

"To him, we're just servants. Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate mankind, we're next." He circled the desk, sitting down on the edge. "So help me, huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times, back to when we could all follow our nature. I'm in sales, dammit! So what do you say if I give you this thing and you go kill the devil?" He picked up the gun as he spoke, holding it out to Sam. Alex watched, shifting her weight to the other foot. 

When no one took the gun, Crowley wiggled it a little. Sam hesitantly took it, holding it in his right hand. "Okay." 

"Great." Crowley seemed satisfied. 

"You wouldn't happen to know where the devil is, by chance, would you?" Sam asked. 

"Thursday, birdies tell me, there's an appointment in Carthage, Missouri." 

Sam glanced at Dean, who nodded. "Great." He swung the gun up, pointing it between Crowley's eyes, and pulled the trigger. There was a click, but nothing happened. The demon remained unfazed. 

"Oh yeah, right, you'll probably need more ammunition." Crowley stood up and walked to the other side of the desk. Alex snickered at his cleverness. 

"Oh, uh, excuse me for asking," Dean put in, "but aren't you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens if we go up against the devil and lose?" He glanced at Alex, who just shrugged. 

Crowley watched their exchange curiously. Then he turned back to Dean. "Number one, he's going to wipe us out anyways. Two, after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere, and three," his voice raised into a yell, "how about you don't miss, okay? Morons!" 

He tossed a bag to Dean, who caught it. Then he disappeared. Alex snickered again. 

Sam sighed. He turned to Alex. "Does this work?" he asked. 

Alex narrowed her eyes. "I honestly can't remember," she lied smoothly. She hated lying to them, but they wouldn't take believe her, and she knew they needed to go to Carthage. She shrugged innocently. 

Sam sighed again. "Let's go find Jo." He quickly led them down the hallway and out of the house. Jo was waiting for them by the entrance. 

She looked quizzically at Alex, who smiled. "Hey." 

"Hey," she answered, looking up at Dean. 

He shrugged. "Let's go back to Bobby's," was all he said. Alex silently agreed. 

They walked down to the Impala and got in. "You got the Colt?" Jo asked. 

Sam nodded, showing it to her. "Yeah. Actually, Crowley just sort of, gave it to us." 

"Wait. He just gave it to you?" Jo looked between Sam and Dean before getting into the backseat with Alex. 

"Yeah. Just like that." Sam glanced back at the two girls, eyes dark with confusion. 

"Okay." Alex leaned forward between Sam and Dean. "Thursday, eh? It's Monday. So we got three days before we meet the devil." 

That quickly silenced Sam and Dean. Even Jo was quiet. Dean started the car, and drove off. 

 

**T** hey arrived back at Bobby's within the early hours of the morning. Alex immediately headed to bed. She only slept for a few hours, dreams plagued with nightmares. Around six, she went back downstairs. Ellen and Bobby were sitting in the kitchen. Sam was fast of sleep on the couch, and every once and a while his right hand would unusually twitch. Dean was sitting at Bobby's desk, eyes drooping, a glass of bourbon next to him. 

"Morning," Bobby glanced over at her. 

"Morning Bobby," Alex mumbled, walking over the them. "Where's Jo?" 

"She's in my bed," Bobby explained. 

"Mm. You guys get any sleep?" Alex grabbed a box of cereal walked over to the fridge. "Bobby." 

"What?" 

"Milk?" Alex turned back to him. "I mean, honestly? I just got a new gallon yesterday." She tossed the empty jug onto the counter.

Bobby shrugged. "Use beer," he suggested. 

"Gross." Alex pulled a face. "You're nasty." 

"Whatever. And no, I haven't slept. Gimme a beer." Alex rolled her eyes, but did as he said. "And go wake Sam. We need him." 

Alex walked over to the sleeping hunter. "Rise and shine, Sammy," she said loudly, shaking the hunter awake. 

Sam opened his eyes, glancing up at her. He muttered something inaudible, rolling off the couch.   
Alex smiled. "Cereal?" She held out the box. 

"No thanks." Sam stood up, stretching his back. He walked over to Bobby and Ellen. "What'd I miss?" 

"Not much." Bobby glanced at Ellen, who shook her head. "Just been doing a little research." 

"Hm. Anything yet?" 

"Nope." Bobby shook his head. 

"Great." 

 

**T** wo days quickly passed. The time was spent gathering supplies, and, overall, doing research. Alex tried to be useful, spending a lot of her time racking her brains, trying to remember _exactly_ what happens. But, for the most part, she was unsuccessful. Colt didn't work, lots of demons and reapers, but she was almost completely sure that this was something they needed to do. Lucifer told them something invaluable there, right? This had to be it, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what they were suppose to learn. Alex shook her head. She couldn't tell them the gun didn't work. 

 

**W** ednesday night came, and Dean returned from town with even more beer. They had run out earlier that evening. Castiel had appeared only a few minutes before Dean walked through the door. "Hey, Cas." 

"Dean." 

Dean placed the drinks on the counter. "You stopped combing your hair," he pointed out. "Things getting hectic?" 

Castiel shook his head, glancing at Alex. "I like it better this way," he said plainly. 

"Cas!" Jo pointed to the empty chair around the table. "Come on, let's play!" 

Alex nudged him towards the chair, and Castiel acquiesced. Ellen approached with a bottle of whiskey. "This is how you play the game," she told Cas, turning to the cupboards behind her. "You get shot glasses and--hey! Where'd they go?" 

"Other cupboard," Alex told her, glancing around. Dean and Sam had retired into the study, talking quietly. Bobby was nearby. 

"Why are they there?" Ellen asked, bring Alex's attention back to the scene before her. "I just washed them and put them away this morning." 

"You did," Alex acknowledged, "but you put them in the wrong spot." 

"I put them where I found them." 

"Yeah, I know. Bobby put them there." She raised her voice teasingly, "It's all his fault." 

"It's my house, girl," Bobby called back. "I'll put them wherever I damn want." 

Alex chuckled, and watched Ellen take out the ten shot glasses. She put five in front of Cas and five in front of her. Alex walked over to the fridge. "Beer anyone?" she called. 

"I'll take another," Dean called. 

Alex pulled out four. She handed one to Dean, one to Bobby, nicely gave Sam one, and kept the other for herself. Then she returned to the kitchen. Ellen had already taken five shots, and Castiel, while a bit confused at the point of this, was finishing his five as well. He glanced over at Alex, not the least bit affected by the alcohol. Ellen glanced at Castiel, then refilled the ten glasses.

"What's the point?" he ask Alex, referring to the game.

"The point?" Alex snorted. "The point's to get drunk." 

"Oh." Castiel turned back to Ellen, watching her slam down five more shots. Then he drank his five, turning the glasses over when he finished like Ellen had done. "I think I'm starting to feel something," he told them. Ellen smiled, and Jo gaped unbelievingly. 

Alex just laughed, pulling up a chair. "Oh, Cassie, I love you," she laughed. 

Castiel glanced around awkwardly. "I, uh, . . . . I love you too." 

Alex grinned. "Right response." A strange response, but it was technically what people would say back anyways. She'd give it to him. So she let it slide by, patting him on the back before taking another sip of her beer. Still didn't like the taste. She looked at the brand. _El Sol._ Like always. She sighed.

In the other room, Dean and Sam were talking. Jo stood up, walking over to the fridge. They stopped, and footsteps told Alex Dean was approaching. He walked past her, stopping by Jo. Alex watched them out of the corner of her eye. Ellen refilled the shot glasses. 

"Hey," Dean spoke. 

"Hey," Jo replied. 

Alex saw Dean lean against the counter next to the fridge. "So, dangerous mission tomorrow. Guess it's time to eat, drink, you know, make merry." Alex held back laughter at Dean's flirting. 

"Are you giving me the last-night-on-earth speech?" Jo asked. 

"What?" Dean asked, going on the defense. 

"What?" Jo repeated. 

"No," Dean said, and they both laughed a little. "But, uh, if it was, would it work?" 

Alex turned her head slightly to get a better view. Jo had put a hand on his cheek, leaning in close. Alex's eyes flitted away for a second.

Jo pulled her head away. "No. Sweetheart, if this is our last night on earth, I'm going to spend it with a little something I call self-respect." She let out a small laugh, then walked away. 

_Oh,_ Alex thought. _That's where that quote came from._

Dean seemed stunned. "Uh, if you're into the kind of thing," he called after her. He shot a glance at Alex, who barely held back a snicker. 

"Everybody get in here!" Bobby called. "It's time for the lineup. Usual suspects in the corner." 

Everyone stood up. Dean walked next to Alex. "A little something called self-respect?" he repeated. "Fairly certain I'd heard that line before." 

Alex shrugged. "Sorry," she whispered. "Wibbly-wobbly." 

Dean shrugged back. They entered the study, where Bobby had set up an old-fashioned camera. 

"Oh, come on, Bobby." Ellen entered the study as well. "Nobody wants their picture taken." 

"Hear hear," Sam jokingly agreed. 

"Shut up. You're drinking my beer." 

"Which you bought with my money," Alex reminded him lightheartedly. Castiel stood behind her, and Alex stepped forward to let him through. 

Bobby set the camera and rolled back in his wheelchair. Alex took her spot standing in front of Castiel and Ellen. Glancing behind her, she saw Sam standing behind them, one arm around Cas' shoulder, and next to him, Dean, one arm on his brother's back, the other around Jo. In front of Jo was Bobby. "Anyways," the older hunter spoke, "I'm going to need something to remember your sorry asses by." 

"Ha! Always good to have an optimist around," Ellen glanced over at him. 

"Bobby's right," Castiel spoke. "Tomorrow we hunt the devil. This is our last night on earth." At that, everyone's smiles faded. 

Alex elbowed the angel. "Cas," she scolded him. The camera flashed, and Bobby rolled forward to retrieve the picture. Ellen and Jo left the room, and Sam returned to the desk. Alex strolled forward to see the picture. No one was smiling. "Cas," she scolded the angel again. "Now everyone looks depressed." 

"My apologizes." The angel seemed throughly upset at Alex's words. 

She sighed. There was no way she could stay mad at him. "Don't sweat it." She smiled to show she was fine. "Come on. Let's get something to drink." She led him back into the kitchen, and he sat back down at the table. Alex sat across from him. "So. Last night on earth, eh?" 

"For us, at least," Castiel nodded. "You and Bobby should be fine." 

"Me and Bobby?" Alex looked up at him. "I get why Bobby will be fine. He ain't coming. But how come I'll be safe?" 

Castiel looked at her, blue eyes dark with concern. "Because you're not coming either." 

"What?" Alex looked shocked. "What do you mean I'm not coming? I am too!" 

"No, you're not." 

"Dean!" Alex called the hunter over. "I'm coming too, right?" 

"Why wouldn't you be?" Dean approached, confused. "You're our biggest asset. Apart from the Colt, of course." 

"She is _not_ going!" Castiel snapped, standing up. "It's too dangerous." 

"Oh, well, I'm glad you feel the same concern for us," Dean snapped back. "She's coming, Cas. That's the end of it." 

"What if she doesn't want to go?"

"Then she can stay. But if she wants to come with, she can come with." 

Castiel looked like he was going to argue, but sat back down, eyes glowering. Dean left. Alex abruptly stood up, leaving the room. Castiel followed her up the stairs. "I don't care what Dean says. You can't come." 

"And why not?" Alex spun around to face the angel. "I have as much right to come as you do." 

"We're going up against _Lucifer_. He's powerful, and he's dangerous." 

"And how does that make it okay for you to go?" 

"He's my brother." 

Alex glared at him. "I'm coming, Cas. It's my responsibility to make sure everyone's okay. Because if someone dies, and I could have stopped it, I won't be able to forgive myself." 

Castiel stood his ground. "I don't know why I'm even arguing with you about this. You're too young." 

"I don't care what you think!" Alex snapped. "Dammit, Cas. Why do you have to be so difficult?" 

"I'm trying to protect you!' 

"I don't need your help!" Alex yelled. 

Castiel stopped. He growled out a, "fine," then was gone, leaving Alex alone. 

She heard footsteps, and Sam appeared. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Just leave me alone," Alex hissed, stomping off to her bedroom. 

Sam took a couple steps after her. "Are you sure you want to be fighting with him?" he asked. 

"He started it." Before Sam could even answer, she added, "And if you're _even_ thinking about suggesting he likes me, no."

"He's seems different around you --"

"Different as in awkward?" Alex let out a huff. "He's awkward around all woman, Sam. Ellen winked at him earlier today and he looked like Lucifer himself wanted to fuck him! He treats me like I'm a damn child, Sam." She cut herself off, shaking her head. 

Before Sam responded, Alex disappeared into her room, slamming the door behind her. She sat down on her bed, arms and legs crossed. He couldn't tell her what to do. What did he know? She could hear voices below her in the study. Castiel and Dean were arguing; about her undoubtably. She sighed angrily, resting her head against the wall. It didn't matter what Cas thought. She was going with. 

 

**S** he woke when Dean knocked on her door. "It's open," Alex muttered, struggling to sit up. 

Dean looked in on her. "Get up. We're leaving in half an hour." 

Alex grunted a response, getting to her feet. She tiredly followed Dean out into the hallway and down the stairs. Bobby was up, wheeling his way into the study. Alex felt the familiar tug of pity at the sight of the wheelchair. Sam walked in through the front door, letting the cool morning air in. "Oh. Brr!" Alex exclaimed. "Shut the door!" 

Sam let out a grunt of amusement, but did as she asked. "You almost ready to go?" 

"Stuff's packed," Alex said, glancing at her bag that was at the bottom of the stairs. "Where's Cas?" 

"Outside." Sam picked up her bag. "He's riding with Ellen and Jo. You're with us." 

Alex groaned. "Not you guys again," she joked. 

"Yeah us." Dean shot her a light-hearted glance. "I'm thinking Zeppelin." 

Alex groaned again. She said good-bye to Bobby, promising she'd come back, then grabbed a jacket and walked outside. She got into the backseat of the Impala. "And off we go," she mumbled, pulling out her MP3. 

 

**February 2nd, 2010**

**Carthage, Missouri**

**I** t was almost an eight hour drive to Carthage. They arrived at 4 pm. Light rain drummed on the street, making the day absolutely yucky. Alex straightened up in her seat, reaching for the last of the already-cold fries. Sam pulled out his phone. Then paused. "Dammit," he cursed. "No signal." 

Alex looked out the window. Except for the two cars, the entire town was deserted. Not a single sign of people anywhere. However, she couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched. She slumped down in her seat. She heard Dean roll down his window, sticking his hand out. Upon closer inspection, he was holding his phone. Sam copied his brother as the car slowly rolled forward. "Getting a signal?" Sam asked. 

"No, nothing," Dean replied. "Nice and spooky." He pulled the car over to the far curb, waving Ellen's car forward. It did so, coming to a halt. Alex glanced over. Nothing had really changed. Ellen was still driving, Jo had shotgun. And Castiel was in the backseat. He was staring ahead, eyes distant. 

Alex rolled down her window. "You okay, Cassie?" she called. 

At her words, the angel looked up, but didn't respond. 

"Place seem a little empty to you?" Ellen asked them. 

"We're going to go check out the PD. You guys stay here, see if you can find something." 

"Okay." 

Dean drove off farther into the deserted town. Alex nervously flicked her knife blade in and out, finding the motion relaxing. A few blocks later, the reached Carthage Police Department. Dean parked the car, and got out. Alex followed, grabbing her gun off the floor. She put it in her waistband, looking warily around. 

"Damn it's creepy," Sam said, breaking the silence. Alex hummed in agreement. 

"Come on." Dean led them into the building. It was as empty as the rest of the town. 

Alex stepped lightly. "Just wait," she said. "Something's going to jump out at us." She meant it as a joke, but all three shot a quick glance around. Dean motioned for Sam to go off down one hall. Alex followed Dean farther into the building. They checked every room, every closet, every nook and cranny. Every time, Alex expected someone; either dead or alive. But there was nothing. 

They returned to the front room, where Sam was waiting. "Anything?" Dean asked him, voice carrying his frustration. Sam shook his head. Dean sighed. "Let's go find Ellen and Jo." 

They walked back out to the Impala. By now, the rain had stopped. The sound of a car approaching made them look up. Ellen and Jo drove up to them. Ellen rolled down her window. 

"Station's empty," Dean reported. 

"So's everything else." Jo looked around. 

"Have you seen Cas?" Ellen asked. 

"What?" Sam exchanged a glance with Alex. "He was with you." 

"Nope. He went after the reapers." 

"Reapers?" Alex repeated. 

"He saw reapers?" Sam asked at the same time. "Where?" 

Jo answered, "Well, kind of everywhere." 

Alex saw Sam and Dean exchange a glance. "Well, we better go find him," Dean grumbled. He walked over to the Impala, popping the trunk. Ellen turned off the car and got out. She pulled two shotguns out of the Jeep's trunk, one for her and one for her daughter. Dean handed Alex and Sam a shotgun as well. "Rock salt." 

Alex checked the ammunition. "Rock salt," she confirmed. She shifted her weight, remembering she still had her handgun on her. "Colt?" 

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Got it." He led the way down the street. 

"You lost the angel," Alex muttered. She repeated herself, louder this time. "You lost the freakin angel." 

Sam grunted in agreement, and Ellen pulled an offensive face. "He wandered off," she snapped back. 

"Castiel?" Alex called out. "You okay?" No answer. 

"Cas?" Dean tried. Still nothing. Sam said nothing; everyone knew Cas only answered to Alex and Dean. "Cas?" Dean tried again. "Well this is great, been in town twenty minutes, and already lost the angel up our sleeve." 

Alex huffed in agreement. 

"You, think, uh, you think Lucifer got him?" Sam dared to suggest.

"I don't know what else to think," Dean admitted. 

"Where did you last see him?" Alex turned to Ellen and Jo. 

"He disappeared into that building." Ellen pointed a few blocks down. 

"There you are." A voice sounded behind them. All five of them spun around. Alex quickly recognized the person. 

"Meg." Sam spoke the demon's name.

"Shouldn't have come here, boys," the demon Meg told Sam and Dean.

"Hell, I could say the same thing about you." Dean pointed the Colt at Meg's head. 

She remained unfazed. "Didn't come here alone, Dean-o." There was a growl by her feet, and Alex's gaze snapped downwards. There was a splash in the puddle, followed by another growl. _Hellhound_. The word flashed through Alex's mind. She didn't remember this part. Growls sounded from all around. _Okay. Hellhounds._

"Hellhounds," Dean stated the obvious. 

"Yeah, Dean. You're favorite. Come on, boys. My father wants to see you." Her eyes flitted across Alex. "Except you. He doesn't need to see you, and I think you'd make a good snack for my friends here." 

Alex stiffened slightly at her implications. "That's too bad," she said coldly. "I was looking forward to seeing your father." Here eyes darted around, desperately trying to remember. Was this even the right episode? Dammit.

Beside her, Dean stiffened, and so did Sam. 

"Very well." Meg's eyes glinted. "Now come."

"I think we'll pass, thanks." Sam shifted, adjusting his grip on his gun. 

"Your call. You can make this easy, or you can make this very, very hard." 

Dean looked around. Alex nodded. "When have we ever been known to make things easy?" he pointed out very, very, dryly. 

Meg just shook her head. Dean pulled the trigger. There was a yelp, and blood appeared next to Meg's feet. Alex quickly realized he had shot a hellhound. 

"Run!" Sam yelled. They did. There was a thump, and Alex glanced back to see that Dean had been tackled. She spun around, aiming her shotgun. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jo had done that same. 

"Dean!" Jo yelled. 

"Jo, stay back!" Dean yelled to her. Jo didn't listen. She fired multiple shots, knocking the hellhound off of Dean. Suddenly, one tackled her from the side, knocking her down. Alex raised her gun, firing two shots in succession. They hit the animal dead on. Behind her, Sam and Ellen came running back to help. There was the sound of ripping flesh, and blood poured out of Jo's side. Ellen screamed her daughter's name. Alex fired one more shot, knocking the creature away. Dean scrambled to his feet, scooping up the young hunter. Shots were fired, filling the air with the horrible noise. They retreated into a hardware store. 

Dean set Jo down, her back leaning against the counter. Sam pulled the door closed. Ellen hurried over to her daughter. "Okay okay okay okay okay," she repeated, "breathe now." Behind her, Sam grabbed a large chain, using it to hold the door closed. Dean rushed over, grabbing a bag of rock salt, lining the doors. "Okay," Sam stepped back. 

"Boys, need some help here!" Ellen called, voice filled with desperation. Sam and Dean rushed passed Alex, and her mind whirled, then sunk. 

She knew what happened next. She stood blankly as the two Winchesters salted every door and window in the place. They hurried back, stopping before Ellen and Jo. Jo was breathing heavily, a small whimper escaping her lips. She peeled back her hand, stained red, and blood poured out of her side. Ellen looked up at Dean, horrified. 

Alex couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening. She took a step back. Sam wordlessly walked deeper into the store, returning with a first aid kit and several boxes of bandages. He handed them to Ellen. "It's okay," she whispered, using what she had to try and save her daughter. Jo didn't respond, staring up at the ceiling, her breathing shallow and shaky. Every once and a while, she'd glance around, eyes wide. Sam disappeared, returning with a large bowl filled with water. He handed it to Ellen. 

"Thank you," she whispered. 

Sam walked over to Dean. Alex didn't follow. 

"How's she holding up?" she heard Dean ask quietly. 

It took Sam a few seconds to respond. "Salt lines are holding up." 

Dean took the hint. "Safe for now." 

Sam huffed. "Safe. We're trapped like rats." 

"Hey, you heard Meg. Her father's here. This is our one shot, Sammy. We got to take it, no matter what." Dean turned back to the shelf, and Alex noticed he was working on something. She sighed, walking over to them. Dean finished fiddling with his device. "Here we go." He turned it over.

"Sam, some help here please?" Ellen called the hunter. He left them with a sorrowful glance. 

The device Dean was holding let out a squeal. "K C 5 Fox Delta Oscar, come in," Dean spoke into it. "K C 5 Fox Delta Oscar, come in." Still no response. Dean tried again. "K C 5 Fox Delta Oscar, come in." 

"K C 5 Fox Delta Oscar, go ahead." Bobby's voice came over the gadget. 

Dean sighed in relief. "Bobby, it's Dean. We've got problems." Dean glanced behind him at Jo. 

They heard Bobby sigh as well. "That's why I'm here, boy. Is everything alright?" 

"No. It-it--" 

"Is Alex okay?" Bobby quickly asked. 

"I'm fine," Alex spoke slowly. 

"It's Jo, Bobby. It's pretty bad." 

There was silence for several seconds. "Okay," Bobby finally spoke. "Copy that. So now we figure out what to do next." 

"Bobby, I don't think she's--" Dean trailed off, not wanting to finish his thoughts. Alex closed her eyes, unable to take it anymore. She walked farther into the store, slumping against the wall. She put her head in her hands, staring blankly. 

"Right, okay, right." Dean said quietly. 

"Okay. Tell me what you've got." 

Dean quickly recounted everything they had encountered so far. 

Suddenly Bobby cut him off. "Wait. Before he went missing, did Cas say how many reapers?" 

"I don't -- he said a lot of things, I guess. Does the number matter?" 

"Devil's in the details, Dean." 

"Bobby, it's Ellen." Alex didn't look up as she spoke. She couldn't care. Couldn't think. She could only listen. "The way he was looking, the number of places Castiel's eyes went, I'd say we're talking over a dozen reapers, probably more." 

"I don't like the sound of that," Bobby mused. 

"Nobody likes the sound of that, Bobby," Dean retorted. "But what -- w-what does it mean?"

"It sounds like Death, son. I think Satan's in town to work a ritual. I think he's planning to unleash Death." 

"You mean, as in, this guy and taxes are the only sure thing?" 

"The horseman Death," Alex snapped, temper short. 

"The pale rider in the flesh," Bobby added. 

"But unleash? I mean, hasn't Death been tromping all over the place? Hell, I've died several times myself." 

"Not this guy. This is--this is the angel of death. Big daddy reaper. They keep this guy chained in a box six hundred feet under. Last time they hauled him up, Noah was building a boat. That's why the place is crawling with reapers. They're waiting on the big boss to show." 

There was a slight pause. "Got any other good news?" Dean asked dryly. 

"In a matter of speaking." There was the sound of pages turning through the radio. "I've been researching Carthage for the past couple days, trying to suss out what the devil wants there. What you just said drops the last pieces of the puzzle in place. The angel of death must be brought into this world at midnight through a place of awful carnage. Now, back during the Civil War, there was a battle in Carthage. It was so intense the soldiers called it the Battle of Hellhole." 

"Where'd the massacre go down?" Dean asked. 

"On the land of William Jasper's farm." 

"William Jasper's farm? Where's that?" 

"Few miles south of town. Take the main road, and you should reach it." 

Dean let out a huff. "Okay. Thanks Bobby." 

"Does Alex remember anything?" 

Alex felt Dean's gaze on her. She adverted her eyes, studying her shoes. She heard Dean cuss. "Looks like it. Doesn't look like it's good either." Dean approached, looking down at her. "Want to share?" 

"No." Alex closed her eyes, unwilling to show her pain. 

Dean sighed, and sat down beside her. "What is it?" 

Alex turned to look at the older hunter. "I'm sorry. I should have remembered. I could have stopped it." Anger flooded through her, and she clenched her fists. "The whole reason I'm here is to keep you safe. But now they're going to _die_. Why didn't I remember?" Tears flooded her eyes, and she blinked them away. "I should have remembered." 

Dean held her gaze. "Alex, look at me. It isn't your fault, okay? Our lives aren't your responsibility. You can't save everyone--" 

"I can't save _anyone_!" Alex interrupted. "And believe me, I have tried." 

"It's not your fault," Dean repeated. "Sometime, shit happens. There's nothing we can do." 

"They're going to _die_." Alex closed her eye again, leaning her head back. She opened them, meeting Dean's green eyes, her voice little more than a whisper. "I don't want them to die." 

He was silent for a few seconds. "Them?"

"Ellen and Jo," Alex mumbled.

Dean stiffened. "Then they won't die," he decided. Jo let out a pained noise, and Alex screwed her eyes shut. 

"Alex," Dean's voice reached her ears. "You need to pull it together What can we do to save them?" 

"You can't do anything!" Alex snapped. "You don't understand. There is nothing we can do to save them!" Her voice rose in desperation. "We shouldn't have come. This whole thing is pointless! Who are we kidding? This is never going to work." 

Dean didn't give up. "Don't say that. Come on. Think, Alex," he urged. "There's still hope." 

Alex didn't respond, studying the ground. 

Dean sighed. "You think of something, then get back to me." Then he stood up and was gone. 

 

**T** hey left her alone for several minutes. At one point, she felt someone's gaze on her, and she looked up. Sam was watching her. He didn't say anything, but his brown eyes were filled with something between desperation and hope. Then he was gone, and Alex was alone again.

She could hear Sam and Dean, deep in conversation. "Now we know where the devil's going to be, we know when, and we have the Colt," Dean was saying. 

"Yeah. We just have to get past eight or so hellhounds and get to the farm by midnight," Sam retorted. 

"Yeah, and that's after we get Ellen and Jo the hell out of town." Dean let out a long sigh, studying the ground. 

Sam agreed. "Won't be easy." Alex could tell they both knew it was hopeless.

There was a short silence. "Stretcher?" Dean suggested. 

Sam nodded. "I'll see what we got." He headed deeper into the store. 

"Stop." Jo spoke up. "Guys, stop." Sam stopped. "Can we, uh, be realistic about this please?" 

Alex stood up, slowly walking over to them. 

"I can't move my legs. I can't be moved. My guts are being held in with an ace bandage. We gotta -- we gotta get out priorities straight here" Jo let out a shaky breath. "Number one, I'm not going anywhere." 

"Joanna Beth!" Ellen cut in sharply, "you stop talking like that." 

"Mom, I can't fight, I can't walk. But I can do something. We got propane, wiring, rock salt, iron nails, everything we need." At those words, Alex closed her eyes. 

"Everything we need?" Sam repeated. 

"Bomb," Alex whispered, glancing up at the hunter. 

"No." Dean looked at Alex, then down at Jo. "Jo, no."

"You got a better plan? You got any other plan?" Jo's voice shook, and she make no attempt to steady it. "Those are hellhounds, Dean. They got all of our scents. Those bitches will never stop coming after you. We let the dogs in, you guys hit the roof, make a break for the building next over. I can wait here with my finger on the button, rip those mutts a new one. Or at least get you guys a head start, anyways." 

"No. I -- I won't let you." 

"That's why we're here, right?" Jo glanced up at her mother, who was shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "If I can get us a shot on the devil, Dean, we have to take it." 

Alex flinched, guilt tearing through her. This was all her fault. All of this, for _nothing._ It wasn't worth it. They shouldn't have come. 

"No!" Ellen looked up at Dean, desperation written across her face. "That's not--" 

"Mom! This might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult. Might want to take it?" Jo struggled to hold back tears at the thought of death, but forced out a smile. Ellen broke down, sobbing. 

Alex closed her eyes, emotions fighting to get out. 

Finally Ellen looked up. "You heard her," she whispered. "Get to work." 

Dean and Sam exchanged sorrowful glances, then set off into the store. Dean roughly pushed past Alex, and she shrunk back, knowing he was blaming her; and rightfully so. 

 

**T** hey spent the next several hours gathering supplies. At one point, Alex approached Jo, who was sitting alone. She opened her eyes, looking up at Alex. Alex sat down beside her. "How are you doing?" she asked. 

"Couldn't be better," Jo muttered sarcastically. 

Alex sighed. "I'm sorry," she began. "I should have known. I could have saved you, and you should be fine--" 

"It's not your fault," Jo cut her off. "Why would you think that?" 

Alex took a deep breath. "Because. Sometimes, I-I know things before they happen. I should have known about this!" 

"Alex. I'm not your responsibility. You can't blame yourself for this." Jo turned her head to look at her. "It's not your fault." 

Alex leaned back up against the counter next to her, looking out towards the door. "Everything's going to be fine," she promised. 

"Don't start with all that crap," Jo scoffed. "I'm going to die." 

"I know," Alex murmured. "But afterwards. Heaven's going to be great. I've seen it. In my -- visions." 

Jo didn't answer. 

"Don't you worry." Alex's voice shook, but she forced it into steadiness. "Just a little while longer, then everything is going to be fine. Forever this time." Her mind drifted off, and her voice grew soft. "Imagine. No more hunting. No more fear, or nightmares. Surrounded by the people you love. Everything's perfect." They trailed off into silence. 

 

**N** ight came. It was a little past nine o'clock by the time Sam and Dean had finished wiring the bomb. As Dean wired up the button, Sam sat beside Jo, holding her hand. 

"Okay. This is it," Dean's voice shook. "I'll see you on the other side. Probably sooner than later." He tried to force a joke, but no one laughed. 

"Make it later," Jo smiled up at him through the pain. Tears slid uncontrollably down her face. 

Dean handed her the button, clasping her hand in his. He knelt down, pressing a kiss on her forehead. Then he kissed her lightly on her lips before resting his forehead against hers. Alex felt her heart twist in agony at the sight. _I could have stopped this,_ she berated. Dean got up, taking a step back. 

Ellen approached, sitting down next to Jo. Their eyes met, and Ellen smiled gently. 

"Mom, no." Jo realized what her mother was doing, and her voice shook. 

"Somebody's got to let them in. Like you said, you're not moving." Tears ran down her face, and she made no attempt to brush them away. "You got me, Jo. And you're right, this is important." Jo nodded, and Ellen continued. "And I will not leave you alone." 

Sam looked over at Dean, shocked. "Dean--" 

"Get going, boys." 

"Ellen--" Dean started to protest. 

Ellen cut him off. "I said, get out." 

Sam and Dean exchanged sorrowful glances, and Alex briefly closed her eyes. They no longer argued, but headed for the back exit. 

"And Dean?" Dean turned back to look at Ellen. "Kick it in the ass. Don't miss." 

Dean nodded and walked away. They went out the back, and Sam pulled down the ladder. He climbed up first. Alex started after him, but Dean roughly pushed her out of the way. Alex let him. She trailed slowly behind. She clambered over the lip of the building, looking around. Sam and Dean were already on the other building, running fast. Below, Alex heard hellhounds, their barking and growling chilling her to the bone. Alex pulled herself to her feet and started running. She leapt over the small wall that divided the two buildings. Sam had already reached the other side, and was climbing down the fire escape. Dean followed. When Alex reached it, she looked down to see it was a small alley. She hurried down. 

She had taken three steps on the solid ground when an explosion ripped through the air. Sam and Dean stopped, and Alex skidded to a halt beside Sam. They turned, yet unable to see the building. Alex's heart broke, and she let out a shaky breath. Then Sam and Dean were moving again. 

 

**T** hey ran through the town, weaving in and out of the buildings. Alex's lungs burned from running in the cold air, but she pushed on, too numb from the shock and sadness to care about the pain. She deserved the pain. Finally, they stopped in the shadow of a building. Sam pulled out his phone. "Damn," he whispered. "Still nothing." He flicked it shut, turning to Dean. "So where is farm?"

"Bobby said it was a few miles south of here," Dean replied. He turned to Alex. "You okay?"

Alex took a breath before nodding. Her eyes hardened into icy determination. She knew what she had to do. "I'm fine, Let's go shoot the devil." 

 

**I** t was a two hour hike to William Jasper's farm. They walked along the side of the road among the shadows. By the time they reached the farm, light rain had started to fall, and thunder clapped distantly above their heads. Alex checked her phone. 11:46. Almost perfect timing. "Quarter to midnight," she informed them. 

Dean nodded. He led them onto the farm, carefully looking around. 

Ten minutes later, they found themselves among trees, creeping through the bushes. Suddenly Dean stopped, motioning ahead of him. Alex peered over his shoulder to see a large field, filled with rows upon rows with men. Alex knew they were demons. They were staring at something in front of them, but from Alex's vantage point, she couldn't see. But she was confident she knew what. 

"Guess we know what happened to some of the townspeople," Dean muttered. 

"Okay." 

"Okay." Dean let out a long breath. 

"Last words?" Sam glanced at his brother. 

Dean thought. "I think I'm good," he finally said. 

"Me too." 

Alex nodded in agreement.

Dean nodded, his voice containing only the faintest hint of fear. "Here goes nothing." He pulled out the Colt, repeating the plan they had come up with on the walk there. "You distract him, I'll sneak up behind and shoot him." He glanced at Alex. "And you stay here." 

Alex huffed. "I'll go with you, Dean." 

Dean glared at her, but didn't bother to argue. He knew she could walk more silently than either him or Sam. He nodded, motioning for her to follow. She did. Sam slipped off in the other direction. Dean and Alex circled around, silent as shadows. 

"Hey!" they heard Sam yell.

The stepped out from the trees, and Alex finally got a view of what those demons were looking at. She recognized Lucifer, standing before a large hole, shovel in hand. As she watched, he turned to Sam, dropping the shovel. 

"You wanted to see me?" Sam continued. 

Dean and Alex snuck up behind the archangel, trepidation gnawing at their stomachs. Alex knew the Colt wouldn't work, and quickly planned in her head. If she could stall him past midnight, that would at least buy them a little time. Might get her killed. Alex pushed the thought away. She wouldn't care if he killed her.

"Oh, Sam, you don't need that gun here," Lucifer said kindly, studying the hunter. "You know I'd never hurt you. Not really."

By this point, Dean had reached the devil, Colt in hand. He spoke. "Yeah? Well I'd hurt you." Lucifer turned to see Dean pointing the Colt at his forehead, point-blank. Dean continued, "So suck it." He pulled the trigger.

The sound of the gun discharging echoed through the farm, and Lucifer crumpled to the ground. Alex circled to stand on the other side of Dean, glancing at Sam, then down at Lucifer. For several seconds, no one moved. Dean and Sam exchanged glances, premature relief on their faces. 

Then, Lucifer let out a pained breath, eyes fluttering open. "Owww . . ." he gasped, rolling onto his back. He lay there for a few seconds, breathing heavily. Then he pulled himself to his feet, still making a pained noise. He turned to Dean, whose face was one of disbelief and terror. "Where did you get that?" Without waiting for an answer, he punched Dean, who flew backwards into a tree. Alex turned to watch him hit the trunk, flinching, then turned back to Lucifer. He had turned his attention back to Sam. He opened his mouth to speak, but Alex interrupted him. 

"Now, tell me this." Alex spoke clearly, not wanting to be ignored. Lucifer turned, noticing her for the first time. "You said -- or will say, wibbly-wobbly, -- that there are five things that gun can't kill, yourself included. But, by 'you', do you mean you-Lucifer, or you-archangels?" 

"How did you know I was going to say that?" Lucifer stepped towards her, interest gleaming in his pale blue eyes.

"You knew the gun wasn't going to work?" Sam snarled at the same time, stepping towards her as well, his terror replaced by anger. "What the hell? I swear, if we get out of this, I am going to murder you! I will rip your heart out, do you hear me!?" 

Alex knew he was telling the truth, but chose to ignore him. Lucifer let out a wicked grin, turning back to Sam. "That's good, Sam. You keep fanning that fire in your belly. All that pent-up rage. I'm going to need it. But, unfortunately, you won't be able to kill her." He turned to Alex. "I'm afraid I'm going to kill her first." 

"Kill me?" Alex pulled an offended face, trying not to show her intimidation. "That's a little harsh. What did I do?" 

"You let them shoot me in the head." Lucifer rubbed his forehead to emphasis his point. 

Alex's gaze hardened. "You killed Ellen and Jo. I need to blame someone." 

Lucifer tilted his head to one side. "You blame yourself," he noted. 

Alex let out the smallest hint of a smile. "Well, I can't shoot myself, can I? But you were a good close second. I mean, sure I knew it would do nothing. But it was tremendously satisfying." 

Lucifer stepped closer, anger flashing through his eyes. He studied her, and it faded. "You must be Alex. Meg said you wanted to see me." 

"Maybe I did want to see you, maybe it was just a lie," Alex said coldly. "Hard for you to say, mm?" 

"Hard indeed." Lucifer studied her closely. "Maybe I won't kill you just yet. You amuse me." 

Alex let out an indignant huff. "The same to you." 

Lucifer chuckled. 

"Alex, what the hell are you doing?" Sam interrupted them. "We have to get out of here! He's the devil!"

Lucifer looked over at him, Alex forgotten. "You're right. And I have a ritual to finish." 

Alex turned to Sam. "The hell, man? Have you never heard of stalling? We just needed to keep him distracted past midnight, buy us a little time!" 

Sam glanced at all of the demons. "What did you do to this town?" he asked, forcing himself to remain calm. 

"Oh, I was very generous with this town," Lucifer promised. "One demon for every able-bodied man." 

"And the rest?" 

Lucifer paused, glancing down at the pit. Alex felt her heart sink at the realization. "In there," the archangel said quietly. "I know, it's awful, but these horsemen are so demanding. So it was women and children first." His voice grew almost apologetic as he continued. "I know what you must think of me, Sam. But I have to do this. I have to. You of all people should understand." 

"What's that suppose to mean?" 

"I was a son. A brother like you; a younger brother, and I had an older brother who I loved, idolized, in fact. And one day I went to him and I begged him to stand with me, and Michael -- Michael turned on me. Called me a freak. A monster. And then he beat me down. All because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own. Tell me something, Sam. Any of this sound familiar? Anyway. You'll have to excuse me. Midnight is calling and I have a ritual to finish. Don't go anywhere. Not that you could if you would." Lucifer let out a chuckle, and picked back up his shovel. 

"Well, alright. Well, I suppose we'll be seeing you around, eh?" Alex started to back away after Sam. "How does a couple months sound? Detroit, maybe?" 

Lucifer looked up at her, shock and confusion only visible for a brief second. Then he laughed. "I'm still not sure whether I like you or not," he told her honestly, "but do I hope we will meet again." Then he turned around, finishing filling in to the hole.

"Yeah. Okay. Good talk." Alex ran off after Sam. Lucifer glanced back at her, a smile forming across his face. 

Sam had hurried over to Dean. Alex stayed back, placing herself between the Winchesters and the devil. Lucifer chanted something, then turned to the rows of demons before him. "Now repeat after me. We offer up our lives, blood, souls--" 

"We offer up our lives, blood, souls--" the demons chanted. 

"To complete this ritual." 

"To complete this ritual." As Alex watched, the demons flashed with a golden light, one by one, then fell over dead. 

Lucifer turned to glance at the three of them. Seeing their shocked looks, he shrugged. "What? They're just demons." 

Alex looked over at Dean. He had come to, staring at the devil, shocked and terrified. Alex knelt down beside him. "You okay?" she whispered. He nodded yes. 

Lucifer turned back to the pit, staring at it. Something moved behind them, and Alex turned. Relief flooded through her. It was Castiel. He put his finger on his lip, motioning for them to remain quiet. Then he flew them away. The last thing Alex heard was Lucifer's sing-song voice, chilling her to the bone. "Oh, hello Death." 

 

**C** astiel flew them back to the Impala. "Are you okay?" he asked them. All three nodded. Without needing any words, Dean unlocked the door got into the driver's seat. Sam and Alex got in too, and Alex jumped when she turned to see Castiel was already in the car. No words were said, and they drove away. 

 

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**T** he must have drove all night, because when Alex awoke, they were only a few minutes out from Bobby's. She had fallen asleep on Castiel's shoulder, and she awkwardly sat up. Castiel seemed unaffected. They pulled up into the Singer Salvage Yard, parking the Impala and getting out. Castiel wordlessly disappeared, and Alex led the way into the house. 

"Hello?" she called. 

"Alex? Is that you?" Bobby rolled into view. He stopped, staring at her. "Thank God," he breathed. Sam and Dean followed her in. Alex heard the familiar hum of the tv, and hurried into the study. Glancing into the kitchen, she saw with a sharp twinge of pain the shot glasses from two nights ago, still sitting on the table. 

"Where's Ellen and Jo?" Bobby asked hopefully. Neither Sam or Dean responded, and the whole house went silent. Alex sat down at the kitchen table, eyes closed. She buried her head in her hands.

She vaguely heard the news over the tv. "Just received an update that the governor has declared a state of emergency for Paulding County, including Marion, Fetterville, and Carthage. The storm has reportedly touched off a number of tornados in the area. Death tolls have yet to be estimated, but state officials expect the loss of life and property to be staggering." 

Alex put her head down on the table, blocking out everything else. Who was she kidding? She could have stopped this. The fire crackled in the fireplace, and Alex glanced over her shoulder. All three were standing in front of it, and, as Alex watched, Bobby dropped something into the flames. Even from the room over, Alex recognized it as the picture from two nights ago. Another wave of pain shot through her, and she abruptly stood up, the chair sliding across the floor. 

Suddenly Sam stormed up to her, pinning Alex against the wall. "What the hell?!" he yelled. "You knew the damn gun wouldn't do a thing? You let Ellen and Jo die!"

Tears rolled down Alex's face. "I'm sorry, okay?" she tried to say. 

Sam wouldn't have it. "They're dead because of you! Damn you, Alex." 

Then he was being yanked away from her. He kept yelling, and it took all of Dean's strength to hold his brother back. 

Alex ran. 

She hurried through the front door and out into the salvage yard. She ran through the cars and into the large shed filled with tools. There she sat, head buried in her hands, crying. She couldn't help it. 

 

**A** fter a few minutes Dean came out, and Alex shied away. "Please don't kill me," she whispered, then paused. "Never mind. I don't care." She closed her eyes again.

"I'm not going to kill you." Dean knelt on the ground in front of her. "It's not your fault, okay?" When Alex let out an unbelieving noise, he continued, "Our lives aren't your responsibility. Ellen and Jo knew the risks when they came with us." 

"I should have remembered!" Alex cut him off. "That show is the only thing I've got, Dean. If I can't even remember that, what else have I forgotten? How could I forget that Ellen and Jo _died?_ " 

"You're not perfect, Alex. No one blames you. We all know you're doing your best, and that's all we ask from you. You can't let this get to you. Something just are meant to happen." He stood up, extending his hand to her. 

Alex took it, and he pulled her to her feet, and then into a hug. Alex accepted it, her tears wetting his shirt. They stood there for several minutes, and Alex was thankful that he was there. "Thanks," she muttered. 

"Come on. Let's get something to drink."


	38. Sam Interrupted

**February 5th, 2010**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**N** o one really did anything for the next several days. Alex cleaned the whole house in an attempt to keep herself distracted, but nothing really worked. Sam and Dean stayed there, helping out in whatever ways they could. Alex avoided them as much as possible. She'd finally spent the night at Craig's, and had decided that she wasn't going back. Not now.

There was a knock on the spare bedroom door. "Alex?" That was Craig. "You okay in there, sweetheart?"

Alex was hunched up on the corner. "I'm fine," she insisted, voice cracking.

"There's a guy here to see you. He wants to come --"

The door opened, and Dean stepped through. Alex turned her head away, hiding her tear-stained face. She heard the door close, and Dean sat down next to her.

"Go away."

"Bobby's found us a case."

"I don't care."

"You need to get back out there." Dean put his hand on her knee. "It's not your fault."

Alex pushed him away. "It is my fault," she growled. "I _knew_ the Colt was useless. I-I forgot they died, all because I thought t-there was something we needed to know that I forgot. I knew there was something I had forgotten! And --" She staggered to her feet, shaking her head. She stumbled over to the bed, voice dropping to a low mumble. "I forgot. I'm useless."

Dean followed. "You're not useless, Alex."

Alex turned on him. "I am too! Look at me! What have I done? How have I made _anything_ better? Everyone is still dying, and I have done nothing. I let them die, Dean." She angrily brushed tears away. "I'm no hunter. I'm not any help to you guys. Maybe . . . maybe I should just leave."

"Alex." Dean stepped closer, and Alex stepped away. "You're not useless. How many times have you saved our lives, huh? Remember two years ago? You brought me back from hell, saved me from the buruburu. You figured out Uriel was the rat, saved me from that damn cannibal, remembered about the ghouls, and the horsemen. I would have killed Sam if it wasn't for you!" Realizing he was on the verge of yelling, Dean lowered his voice. "You're not useless, Alex. We'll figure it out, even if you can't remember."

Alex just shook her head. She sat down on the bed.

"Come on." Dean held out his hand. "A case is just the thing to take your mind off of it all."

Alex took it. Dean held her tight when her hand trembled.

 

 **H** e led her back Bobby Singer's house. Sam and Bobby were sitting in the study, waiting. Alex rubbed her eyes, knowing her eyes were still red from crying. Thankfully, it was ignored.

"What's up?" Dean asked.

"I got a call from an old friend. Name's Martin. Maybe you've heard of him. He was a fine hunter for a while. Checked himself in to Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital a few months back. He called a little while ago; supposedly got a case down there. I checked it out, and he's right." Bobby handed Sam a piece of paper. "In the past few months there's been over eight deaths. All written up as suicides."

"So?"

"So the place hasn't had that many deaths. Ever. Just go check it out. Get your minds off the apocalypse."

Sam and Dean looked at each other and shrugged. "Okay, fine. We'll check it out." Dean let out a sigh.

Sam agreed. "We'll leave in the next five minutes. Alex? You want to come?"

Alex started to decline, but Bobby cut her off. "You go too. You've been moping around for the past three days. Go do something useful."

"Fine." Alex rolled her eyes. I'll get my bag."

 

**Ketchum, Ohio**

**D** ean pulled the car up into the parking lot of the Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital. Alex got out of the back seat, stretching her legs. "Okay, remember." Dean ran over the plan one more time for them. "Me and Sam are going to get ourselves checked in, do a little snooping around. Alex, you're going to stay on the outside. If you remember _anything_ , contact us, you hear?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded, glancing over at Sam. "So I shouldn't get checked in to the psych ward."

"Uh, yeah." Dean looked over at her. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"No, no. I'm good." Alex shook her head. "Let's go." She followed Dean and Sam into the building.

"Hey." Dean stopped by the front desk. "I'm Eddie Moscone? I'm here to, uh, check my brother in? We had an appointment with a Mr.-- Dr. Fuller."

"Ah, yes." The woman nodded. "Just go through those doors and to the left. His office is the second to the left.'

"Thank you." Dean shot her a charming smile before walking off. Sam and Alex followed. They followed the directions, and soon found themselves in front of a door. Dean knocked, then entered.

"Ah, come in." An older man stood up, motioning them to sit. He looked friendly, and Alex immediately liked him. Dean and Sam sat down, and Alex opted for leaning against the wall behind them. The man noticed. "Let me get you a chair," he began.

"No, no, it's fine," Alex promised. "Don't worry about me."

The doctor hesitated, but sat back down. He began flipping through the pages of a folder in front of him. "So, Alex Moscone. You were referred to me by a Mr. Babar in Chicago."

"That's right," Dean agreed.

"Isn't there a children's book about an elephant named Babar?" the doctor asked.

Alex glanced at Dean, waiting for his response. "I don't know. I don't have any elephant books," Dean kind of stammered. "Look, doctor, I-I think the doc was in over his head with this one." He motioned to Sam. "Cause me brother is--" He made the crazy sign by his head.

Dr. Fuller raised a hand to stop him. "Okay, fine, thank you. That's-that's really not necessary." He picked up his notepad and pen, turning to look at Sam. "Now, why don't you tell me how you're feeling, Alex?"

Alex perked up, then realized Sam was using the cover name Alex. Oh.

Sam let out a sigh. "I'm fine. I mean, okay. A little depressed, I guess."

"Okay. Any idea why?"

"Probably because I started the apocalypse."

The doctor paused. "The apocalypse?"

"Yeah, that's right."

Dr. Fuller looked from Dean to Alex, then back to Sam. "And you think you started it?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I killed this demon, Lilith, and I accidentally freed Lucifer from Hell. So now, he's topside, and we're trying to stop him."

"We? Who's we?"

"Me. A-And him." Sam pointed at Dean. "And this one angel."

"An angel?" the doctor repeated. "Oh. You mean, like an angel that sits on your shoulder."

"No. His name's Castiel. He wears a trench coat," Sam said simply. Alex barely held in a chuckle. The doctor said nothing, but went back to taking notes.

"See what I mean?" Dean said. "The kid's been beating himself up for months. The apocalypse wasn't his fault."

Dr. Fuller looked up, shocked. "It wasn't?" he asked slowly.

"No. There was this other demon. Ruby. She got him addicted to demon blood, and near the end he was practically chugging the stuff." The doctor looked from Sam, to Dean, then to Alex. Dean continued. "My brother's not evil. He was just . . . high . . . yeah? So, could you fix him up so we could get back to traveling the country and hunting monsters?"

"And do you hunt monsters?" The doctor looked over at Alex.

Remembering her job, she shook her head. "Monsters aren't real."

"Haha. Very funny," Dean grumbled.

The doctor picked up the office phone. "Irma? Cancel my lunch." He glanced back to Sam and Dean before dialing another extension. "Uh, can you send in a nurse?"

A few seconds later, a nurse entered. Dr. Fuller and her exchanged a few quiet words, and then the nurse turned back to them. "Come with me," she instructed.

Dean and Sam stood up. Alex followed them out. "Dr. Fuller would like to keep both of you under observation for a couple of days," the nurse said.

"Both?" Dean interrupted. "Me too?"

"Yes, Sugar. The doctor thinks that would be best."

Sam and Dean exchanged smiles.

"But not me, right?" Alex asked.

"No, you are free to go. If you could just wait in the waiting room for a few minutes."

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Alex headed off that way.

 

 **W** ithin ten or so minutes, she was ushered into another room. Sam and Dean entered, both wearing blue scrubs and a white robe. "Hey," Alex smiled.

"Hey," Sam muttered.

Alex chuckled. "Nice robes. They look comfy."

"They are," Dean grinned. He tossed her a bag.

"What?" Alex caught it, frowning.

"Our clothes, our stuff, etc." Dean explained. He handed her the car keys. "Take care of Baby," he warned.

Alex laughed. "I will," she promised. "Okay. So I'll check in everyday, noon-ish? See what help I can be. How's that sound?"

"Sounds peachy." Dean looked around, examining the room. "We'll, uh, we'll let you know when we need to get out." He lowered his voice. "Probably right after the hunt. Like, right after. So, stay on your toes."

"Will do. I'll be staying at the motel down the road. Two minute drive."

"Good," Sam nodded appreciatively.

"Okay. Then I'll be off. Good luck you two." Alex gave both of them a brief, and slightly awkward hug. "Remember. Crazy works."

Dean grinned at that statement. "Won't forget it." Then Alex left.

Getting into the Impala, she drove it down the street to their motel, excited that Dean finally trusted her enough to drive it; even after what she had done. She had to admit it was a nice car. Dean had really put a lot of work into it, because it handled like a dream.

 

 **T** he next day, around noon, she went back to the hospital. After signing in, she was escorted through several locked doors. Finally, she was let into the visiting room. Sam and Dean soon joined her. "Hey guys," she smiled broadly.

"Hey." Dean sat down in the chair across from her. "How's it going?" His voice grew threatening. "Is Baby okay?"

"You're car is perfectly fine," Alex sighed. "How about you? You know what we're dealing with yet?"

"Uh, Martin has some ideas." Dean glanced around. "He's thinking a wraith."

"Wraith?" Alex tilted her head. "Like, a ring wraith?"

"Sort of. They, uh, suck their victim's brains dry."

Alex closed her eyes, thinking hard. "Sounds very, very familiar," she finally said. "Okay. Uh, here's what I got. Don't trust me, but, uh. It's a staff member. Woman. Definitely woman. Infects through saliva? Or touch? Dunno, sorry." She smiled apologetically. "Not sure if that's much help. It's kind of scattered."

"That's plenty of help." Dean leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss on her forehead. "Thank you. We should hopefully be out of here by tonight. Be ready."

"Will do. I'll be in the parking lot."

"If we're not out by two in the morning, you can leave."

"Will do," Alex repeated. "Good luck." And with that, she left.

 

 **S** he drove back to the motel, parked the car, and unlocked the motel door. She closed it behind her before flipping on the lights. "Shit!" She jumped back, her back hitting the wooden door. "Personal space, man!"

Castiel blinked, then stepped backwards. "Apologies."

Alex pushed past him, dropping the keys on the table. "Whatever."

"There's something wrong." Castiel turned to watch her. "You haven't asked to talk since Carthage." He tipped his head. "You shouldn't beat yourself up over their deaths."

"Why couldn't I have remembered? It's like I can't! L-like there's a wall or -- oh." Alex sucked in a breath, and her eyes closed. "A wall."

Castiel stayed quiet.

Alex sat down on the bed. "Do you think the wall you put in is why I can't remember?"

Castiel stayed where he was by the door. "It's possible," he slowly agreed, "that the wall is keeping some of the memories in, just like it keeps people out." Before Alex could ask, he added, "If you want, I can go back in there. But the only way to get those memories completely through is to take down the wall."

Alex shook her head. "I don't want that." Her voice shook slightly. "No. I want to stay alive."

"I won't let you die." Castiel approached. "Do you want me to see what I can find?"

Alex scooted up further on the bed. "No. No, I-I'm fine."

Castiel nodded. He looked around the room. "Where are Sam and Dean?" He turned back to Alex. "They haven't been here."

"No, I didn't run away, if that's what you're wondering." Alex crossed her arms. "They're down at the mental hospital. Working a case."

"Hm."

Silence. Alex didn't want to talk, and she knew Castiel wasn't the best at small talk. Eventually the angel just nodded. "I have to go."

"Yup."

Castiel was gone, and Alex curled up on the bed.

 

 **I** t was two days later, and Alex was sitting in the parking lot. It was late, almost midnight. Dean and Sam hadn't killed the wraith yet, so Alex had made a habit of spending the night in the parking lot, waiting.

Suddenly, the hospital's alarms when off. Alex sat up, tiredness lost. She saw them approaching, and looked up. They hurried closer, mouths moving. Alex couldn't hear what they were saying, but suddenly they stopped by the car. They continued to talk, but didn't get it. Confused, Alex strained her ears.

"Most of the time, I can hide it," Sam was saying. "But, I'm angry. I'm mad at everything. I used to be mad at you and dad, then Lilith, now it's Alex and Lucifer, and I make excuses. I blame Ruby, or the demon blood, or Alex, but, but it's not their fault. It's not them, it's me. I mad -- all the time -- and I don't know why."

Alex closed her eyes at his words, feeling a painful tug on her heart. Sam looked truly anguished.

"Stop it," Dean said. "Stop it. So what if you are? What are you gonna do? You gonna take a leave of absence? You gonna say yes to Lucifer? What?"

"No. Of course not. I--"

"Exactly. And that's exactly what you're gonna do. You're gonna take all the crap and you're going to bury it. You're going to forget about it, because that's how we keep going! That's how we don't end up like Martin! You with me?"

Sam didn't reply.

"Come on, man. Are you with me?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah, I'm with you."

"Good."

Alex opened the car door. "If you're done sharing your feelings, we really should get out of here." No one argued. Alex jumped into the backseat, and Sam and Dean got into the front. Dean started the car, and they drove off into the night.

 

 **"S** o, Alex. You were right." Dean glanced back at her from the driver's seat. "Crazy works." At that, Sam snickered.

"Oh?" Alex cocked an eyebrow. "Pray tell."

Sam quickly told the story. "We got caught in the morgue so Dean pulled down his pants and yelled, 'pudding!' at the nurse."

Alex laughed. "Beautiful. That sounds amazing. Any other awkward stories?" She leaned forward over the bench seat. It was early the next morning, and they were driving as far away from that hospital as they could.

Neither Sam nor Dean responded, and Alex rolled her eyes. "Okay. Wraith then. How right was I?"

"Spot on," Sam nodded. "She was a female, and she was a staff member."

"Ha!" Alex declared, triumphant. "I should be on ten percent."

Dean laughed. "And you said you were useless." He shook his head. "Don't think you could have been more wrong."

Alex fell back against the seat, Dean's praise warm on her heart. She smiled, looking out the window. He might be right.


	39. Swap Meat

**February 8th, 2010**

**T** hey pulled into a motel several hours later. The sky was growing light in the east when Alex's head hit the pillow. "Ugh. Wake me when the apocalypse ends." She heard Sam and Dean collapse in the bed across from her. Dean grumbled out something about Sam being a bed hog, but their arguing quickly ceased. They fell asleep.

 

 **"W** ake up." Dean was shaking her awake. "We got to go."

"Unnnggh." Alex rolled over, burying her head back into her pillow. She whined out a "why?"

"Case. A couple of old friends need help." Dean threw back her covers, and the girl let out a yelp at the cold outside air. "Get your ass out of bed." Dean smacked her on the back to emphasize his point. "We're going to have lunch then leave."

Alex reluctantly rolled out of the warm bed. "I hate you."

"I know."

 

 **"O** kay, so what's going on?" Alex sat across from the two Winchesters at the local McDonalds. "You said something about old friends?"

"Yeah. Donna use to babysit us back when we were kids." Sam reached over and stole two of Dean's fries, ignoring how his brother protested. "She called John's cell this morning and said she had a ghost problem. It attacked her daughter."

"Okay. Sounds simple enough." Alex glanced at Sam's meal. "You know, you have your own fries."

The Winchester picked up his burger. "I won't for long." He took a large bite before smacking Dean's hand away. 

Alex watched the siblings pettily argue over food. While neither were looking, she stole some fries for herself, stuffing them in her mouth. 

 

 **Housatonic, Mississippi**

**D** ean pulled the Impala in front of a large Victorian style house before killing the engine. All three got out and made their way up the front walk to the porch. Dean rung the doorbell. 

A woman answered. "Dean and Sammy Winchester." Her voice grew soft at the sight of them. "Come in, come in." 

They were ushered into a living room. In between two couches sat a coffee table. On the near couch sat a young teenage girl. Dean and Sam sat down on the couch, and Alex awkwardly bumped Sam to one side so she could sit as well. 

"Who are you?" The woman looked curiously down at Alex before looking at the Winchesters. "Is she yours?" 

Sam blushed, and Dean shook his head. "No, no. Donna, this is Alex. She's been working with us for the past two years."

"Ah. It's nice to meet you." Donna shook Alex's hand. Alex smiled, voicing her greeting as well. She studied Donna. Tall, blonde, wavy hair. She was pretty. "This is my daughter Katie." 

The blonde teen in the chair smiled at them, but the cheerfulness seemed forced. 

"I have snacks." Donna turned to walk into the kitchen. "I made your favorite." She returned several seconds later carrying a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a pitcher of lemonade. "So, how long has it been?"

"The summer before 6th grade," Sam replied. 

"Mmm, I remember. You assigned yourself your own reading list."

Dean chuckled. ''That's right. I forgot about that."

"Your mom happens to be be the best babysitter we ever had," Sam told the girl. 

"Well, when I was a maid at the Mayflower, out on the interstate -- long before you were even an idea -- their daddy used to pass through town and leave the boys with me while he went off to . . . work. One time he was gone for two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Katie looked at her mother, surprised. 

"Mm-hmm. Oh, he'd always come limping back." Donna looked fondly over at the Winchester. "He loved you boys." 

"Did you know what he did all that time?" 

"Little Samy kept trying to tell me. Of course, I didn't believe him. Not at first, anyways."

"Katie, our dad, um, happened to be an expert at getting rid of ghosts," Sam explained. "And now, so are we."

"That's why I called them, sweetie. They can help us." 

At those words, a man entered the room, carrying several suitcases by the handles. Alex deduced him to be Donna's husband.

Dean looked up at him. "Sounds like you guys got yourself a poltergeist."

The man nodded. "Started a month or two after we moved in."

"Yeah, first it was, uh, just bumps and knocks and scratches on the wall. And then it started breaking things."

"And then it attacked Katie?"

"That was two nights ago," the man confirmed. 

"Can you show them, honey?" 

Katie nodded and stood up. She pulled up up the hem of her shirt, revealing scratches across her stomach. Alex felt a shiver run through her as she realized the scratches formed two words. 

" 'Murdered Chylde.' " Sam read. 

"Katie, everything's gonna be fine," Dean promised. "Why don't you guys take yourselves a vacation, and, uh we'll take of it."

Donna let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you." She stood up. "Here's the keys. If we need anything, please call." 

"Yes ma'am." Dean stood up and shook her hand. "Don't you worry."

 

 **T** hey had dinner at a local diner. Dean was up at the counter, ordering their food. Sam and Alex sat across from each other. Sam was on his laptop, researching the house. Alex was impatiently waiting for dinner. Finally Dean returned, carrying their food. Sam grabbed his food, and Alex stared. "Dude, what the hell is that?"

"Salad shake." Sam poured dressing in there and shook it, letting everything mix up.

Alex shook her head. "That's disgusting." She took her bacon burger and unwrapped it, licking her lips. 

"And that isn't?" Sam looked disdainfully at her food. "It's drowned in grease!"

"Grease is amazing." Dean unwrapped his bacon burger turbo and sunk his teeth into it. He let out a carnal moan. 

Alex kicked him under the table. "Stop making sex noises with food. It's weird." 

Dean completely ignored her. In an act of revenge, Alex stole a chili cheese fry. 

Sam shook his salad one more time, and Dean turned his attention to his brother. "Oh shake it up baby," he said dryly. He put down his burger. "You know, poltergeist aside, Donna looked pretty good, don't you think?" 

"Dude, don't tell me you still got the hots for our babysitter." 

"What? No. That's weird." He let out a chuckle. "I'm just saying that she, you know, she - she's -- she's doing good. You know, with her husband, her kid. This whole Amityville thing being thrown at them, and they're hanging tough."

"Yeah." Sam took the fork and stabbed at his salad. 

"You ever think you'd want something like that? Wife, rugrats, the whole nine?" 

Sam shook his head. "No, not really my thing anymore." He looked over at Alex. 

She shrugged. "I dunno. It'd be nice, but I don't see it happening. Not anymore." 

Dean glanced at Sam's open laptop. "Yeah. What do you got?" 

"Uh, well, that house of theirs, it's old -- really old. Um, hundreds of years. And I found a legend. It's unconfirmed, but still."

"Saying?" 

"Supposedly, in the 1720's, the house was owned by a guy named Isaiah Pickett." He spun his laptop so Dean and Alex could see. He was on a site that was titled 'Witchcraft.' "Legend has it he hung a woman in his backyard for witchcraft -- a woman named Maggie Briggs."

"Okay, so an angry ghost witch?"

"There was a Scooby-Doo movie about a ghost witch!" Alex said excitedly. "We should watch it. You know, for research."

Dean smiled, while Sam just huffed. "We don't even know if it's true. That still doesn't explain what ''Murdered Chylde' means."

"Or where the bitch is buried."

"You know, I mean, it's a long way back, but I can see if I can find something in the town records."

"It's worth a shot." Dean took a large bite of his burger. "I'll take Alex and find a motel."

"Okay." Sam finished the rest of his salad then stood up. "See you then."

"Yup." They watched as Sam left. 

 

 **T** hey pulled up to the nearest motel. "Uh, Dean?" Alex caught the hunter before he could get out. "Can I get a separate room this time? I mean, I like you guys, but I kinda want my own space this time, okay?" 

Dean studied her eyes, then nodded. "Sure." 

He came back a few minutes later with four keys. He held one out to Alex as she got out of the Impala. "Room 34. You're right next to us." Alex reached for the key, but he pulled it back. "No boys over, okay? In fact, unless it's me or Sam, no one else in there." 

"Yes, Dad." Alex rolled her eyes, reaching once again for the key. 

"I'm keeping the second key. If you're going somewhere, tell me." 

"Just give me the damn key."

Dean handed it to her. Then he slung his and Sam's bags over his shoulders and led the way to their rooms. 

Alex walked into her room, dropping her bag on the bed. This was nice. No Winchesters to get in the way. She dropped down on the bed, then felt her pockets, a frown on her face. She left her phone in the car. Great. She let out a sigh. Oh well. She didn't need it right now. 

 

 **A** flutter of wings announced the arrival of Castiel. Alex looked up from the tv. "Hey."

Castiel looked around. "Where's Dean?" 

"The next room over." Alex spread out on the bed. "I got a room all to myself." 

"Congratulations." The angel didn't move from where he was standing. "How are you?"

"I'm good." 

"Are you sure?" Piercing blue eyes studying the female. "You were quite distraught when I last saw you." 

Alex sat up, eyes dropping her lap. "Thanks for reminding me," she muttered. Then she looked up. "I'm just trying to move past their deaths, okay? T-The nightmares are still there, but at least when I'm awake I can forget about it."

"I'm sorry." 

Alex shook her head. "It's not your fault. There's nothing you can do anyways." She moved over, patting the bed next to her, changing the channel. "Here. Documentary about the savannah." She pointed to the small sandy creature on the screen as the angel sat beside her. "Fennec fox. They're adorable. I want one of those." 

Castiel looked over at her, not sure what she was asking. "I . . . can get you one," he finally said, standing up to go. 

"What? No." Alex grabbed his arm before he could fly off. "I don't actually want you to bring me one. I mean, that'd be really cool, but --" 

The door opened, and Dean stepped in. Seeing Castiel, he frowned. "I thought I said no boys." 

"He's not a boy," Alex pointed out, dropping his arm. "He's a celestial being." 

"Hello, Dean." Castiel dipped his head. "It's good to see you."

"Uh, yeah. You too, Cas. Why are you here?" He looked over at Alex.

She shrugged. "We're having a sleep over." She smirked. "When Sam gets back we're gonna braid his hair. Right now we're just discussing how cute you are. Isn't that right, Cassie?"

Castiel looked down at her uncomfortably. "I should go." Before either could respond, he disappeared. 

Alex looked over at Dean. "He's totally got a crush on you." 

"Unlikely."

"I've seen the show." Before Dean could answer, she added, "And next time knock. For all you know, I could have been naked." Seeing Dean's smirk, she added with a blush, " _No_. No, Dean. N-Not like that. You know what I meant." 

Dean walked farther into the room. "Sam's not back yet," he told her. "I talked with him two hours ago, and he said he was on his way back. He hasn't been answering his phone.."

"That's weird." Alex narrowed her eyes in brief worry. "Well, he's probably fine. Maybe his phone died. If anyone tried anything, he'd kick their ass pretty damn fast." 

Dean grunted in agreement. "Still. It's not like him." He sighed, then moved back towards the door. "If he's not back in the next hour, we're going after him."

Alex nodded, watching him go. Then she turned back to her tv show. 

 

 **A** pounding on her door had her getting up. She opened the door, surprised to see Dean standing there. "Did you find him?"

"Get your things." Dean's voice was terse. "The maid saw our weapons." 

"What?" Alex hurried over to her bag and threw it over her shoulder. "How'd that happen?" 

"Sam said it was an accident." 

"Sam's back? That's good. Where is he?" Alex hurriedly grabbed her things. 

"Out in the car." Dean accompanied her over to the Impala. Sam was standing there. 

Alex walked up to him, smiling. "Hey. Glad you're back. We were worried." 

Sam looked down at her. "Yeah, sorry about that." 

"Hey. You ready?" Dean circled around to driver's side. 

"Absolutely." As Dean got in the car, Sam added, "Hey, can I drive?" 

Dean looked up, confused. "Uh, sure." He tossed his brother the keys, and Sam slid into the car. Alex got in the back. 

She felt around for her phone, then frowned. "I thought I left it in here." 

"What?" Dean looked back at her. 

"My phone. I thought it was here." 

"You lost it?" 

"Yeah. I guess so." Alex's frowned deepened. "Dammit." 

"This is so sweet!" Sam exclaimed, turning on the car. He revved the engine. 

Dean frowned. "You want to get the lead out, Andretti? Come on." He watched as his brother shifted the Impala into gear, then his frown deepened. "Reverse. Reverse!" 

The car shot backwards. Alex let out a cry as there was a large crash, and something landed on the trunk. She looked back to see that they had rear-ended the dumpster. Trash bags lay on the trunk.

"It's in reverse," Dean explained, voice terse. He threw open the door and got out, face dark. 

"I am really really sorry," Sam began, getting out as well. 

"Shut up." Dean circled around the car and slid into the driver's side. 

Sam watched him. "Hang on --"

"No." Dean started the car as Sam got into the passenger's seat. He put the Impala in the correct gear and drove off. Alex listened as trash bags rolled off and hit the ground. 

 

 **T** hey stopped at a motel across town. "You want your own room again?" Dean asked. 

"I had that room for like, two hours," Alex shot back. Then she took a deep breath. "Yes, please."

Dean grunted and disappeared into the motel office. 

Alex crossed her arms and laid them on the back of the seat, looking up at Sam. "So." She rested her head on her arms.

"You're cute." 

Alex blinked, pulled her head back. "What?" She squinted. "Are you drunk?"

"W-What? No." Sam looked flustered. "I-I just thought --" He quickly got out of the Impala. 

Alex followed, mouth open, ready to ask a question. However, before she could get the words out, Dean was there. "Here." He tossed her a key. "Same rules as before, okay? And this time no 'celestial beings' either." 

Alex snorted, crossing her arms angrily. "You're ridiculous." She stalked over to her room, unlocked the door, and stepped in. "Ooh." This motel was nicer than the last one. Alex threw her bag on the bed before changing into different clothes. Too tired to do much exploring, she crawled into bed, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck was up with Sam?

 

 **I** t was the next day. They had eaten a late lunch at the local Biggersons, and were now off to work on the case. Alex followed Dean and Sam out of the restaurant and over to the car, licking the last of her lunch off of her corner of her lips.

"So, uh, where are we going, anyway?" Sam looked down at his brother.

Dean blinked in confusion. "To work. The case?"

"Oh, right. Yeah – the case. Of course." However, Sam still looked confused. And now Alex was worried. "Where, uh, do you want to start?"

"Well, since you couldn't find where Maggie Briggs was buried, now we have to do an all-day tombstone roll to see if we can dig her up."

"Wait. M-Maggie Briggs? You mean, like – like, the witch Maggie Briggs?"

"Yeah, Sherlock." Dean circled to his side of the Impala, while Sam stayed by the passenger side. 

Alex stood beside him. "Are you okay? You seem a little out of it."

"I'm fine," Sam promised.

Alex looked over at Dean. "Do we really have to check every tombstone in town?"

"If we want to torch this sucker, yeah." Dean opened the car door and started to get in. 

"She's in the basement." Sam said suddenly. 

Dean stopped. He looked up. "Come again? W-what basement?"

"Isaiah Pickett’s house." Sam's voice suddenly grew excited. "Okay, there's this legend that he hung her, but he didn't. The real truth is that she was carrying his illegitimate child, and he killed her and then buried her in the basement."

"The murdered chylde," Dean realized. "That would explain the scratches. How do you know all this?"

"Oh, I've done all kinds of research on it." Seeing Dean's confused and surprised look he added, "I mean, you know, last night."

"Yeah. Nice work . . . I guess." Dean got into the car, and Sam and Alex followed suit. The eldest Winchester started the car, and music immediately filled the car. Alex recognized the song as "Rock 'n' Roll Never Forgets" by Bob Seger. 

"Aw, man, turn it up!" Sam looked excitedly at the radio. 

"Seriously?"

"Seriously?" Alex echoed. Dean glanced back at her, and they shared concerned looks. 

"Hell yeah!" He cranked up the the music, and the lyrics "Rock 'n' roll never forgets" reached Alex's ears. Dean drove off. 

 

 **D** ean unlocked the front door, and they entered the house. Alex flicked on her flashlight as Dean opened the basement door. She followed Sam down the stairs. 

Sam's flashlight bobbed around the room. "Boo-yah! Master chief is in the house, bizatches!"

Dean looked over at him, thoroughly concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"How do you even know who Master Chief is?" Alex added scornfully. 

"What?" Sam immediately went on the defense. "Can't I appreciate awesome video games?"

"Dude, we don't even own a game console. "

Dean interrupted them. He was on other side of the room. "Well, I'll be damned. Willow moss."

"Yeah, right. It's, uh, supposed to grow over witches' graves, right?" Sam moved back towards the stairs.

Dean looked at his brother. "Yeah," he said slowly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"Dude, you stupid." Alex reached up and smacked Sam on the back of the head. She walked over to Dean.

"This is so much better than searching the graveyards."

Dean grunted in agreement and dropped his duffle bag. He pulled out two shovels, and he and Alex started to dig. 

It wasn't long before they hit bone. They worked swiftly to unearth the body. Alex knelt down, handing salt to Dean and unscrewing the cap to the flask of gasoline. She dumped it on the body, watching the liquid darken the soil as the pungent smell reached her nose. 

Sam finally spoke. "Hey, man, I'm really sorry about this."

"Sorry about what?" Dean didn't even turn around.

Alex, however, looked up in confusion. She saw Sam for only a second before he was being thrown back. Both Alex and Dean dropped their thing, hurrying over to him. 

"Sam!" Dean helped him brother to his feet. "You okay?"

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Sam started towards the door. 

Alex however, had her eyes focused on something else. She knelt down and picked up Sam's gun. 

"Wait, wait, wait." Dean was still talking. Alex stared at the gun. She swore Sam had been pointing it right at Dean. No. That couldn't be right. "We still got to burn the body, you idiot. Come on."

Suddenly Dean flew over her head. Alex jumped to her feet as a female flickered into being in front of her. Alex stumbled back, fumbling with her shotgun. Her back hit the wall beside Dean when she finally aimed. The ghost rushed at her, and Alex fired. The ghost exploded into flames. Dean dropped to the ground, and Alex helped him up. 

She looked up. Sam stood by the grave. Yellow flames jumped into the air, crackling and snapping. Sam had a huge grin on his face. "Dude, that was sweet!"

Dean and Alex exchanged looks. 

 

 **T** hey went back to a motel for a few minutes. Alex stepped into her room. Despite it being January, it was warm. Probably had something to do with being in Colorado. She stripped off her shirt, searching for a new outfit when there was a knock on the door. "Yeah?"

"It's, uh, it's Sam."

"Door's unlocked." Alex went back to digging through her bag as the door opened. She tossed a beige tank top on the bed as well as an army green plaid before looking up. 

Sam closed the door behind him, eyes traveling around the room before coming to rest on Alex "Oh, God." He turned away.

Alex crossed her arms, confused and unamused. "Dude. You've seen me in a bra before. Chill."

"I-I have?" Sam turned back around, his eyes coming to rest on her chest. 

Alex blinked slowly, feeling a blush cross her face. This wasn't Sam. Sam never stared at her this. Feeling immediately uncomfortable, she pulled on her clothes. "What do you want?" she snapped. 

When Sam didn't respond, she turned back around and took a step back. Sam had cut the distance between them by half. 

Alex rolled her shoulders back to appear taller. "Dude, you maybe taller than me, but I will _take you down._ "

Just then, the door opened. Dean stepped through. "Hey. There's a bar in town. Anyone hungry for dinner?"

Alex held Sam's stare until he looked away. "Yeah. Just let me put on a clean pair of pants. And take Horndog here with you."

Dean's puzzlement was evident, but he did as he was asked. "We' ll be in the car."

"Sam." Alex stopped the tall hunter. "Put this in my backpack, okay? Backseat." She dug a small silver cross out of her pocket and tossed it to Sam.

"Yeah. Sure." Sam caught it and with that, they were gone.

Alex watched them leave before shedding her torn hunting jeans and pulling one a faded pair. In dim light, they appeared gray, and went nicely with her shirt. So she wanted to look nice; what was wrong with that? She was a girl, dammit. 

With a resigned sigh, she left the motel room, locking the door behind her. The sky was already growing dark. She walked over to the Impala and got inside.

 

 **T** hey were seated inside the bar twenty minutes later. A waitress brought out two beers and a Pepsi and set it down in front of them. "Ooh. Good." Alex took the Pepsi glass, studying it. It was slightly opaque, but tinted a dark blue. She heard the hiss as Dean opened his beer. 

Once she had drunken it all, she held up the glass. "These are the best. You can't tell if it's coke or beer in these glasses." She looked up at Dean. "Order two next time you do. I'm not feeling the caffeine right now."

Dean grunted in agreement, taking a long swig.

Sam grinned. "You let her drink? Dude."

Alex and Dean looked at Sam, and then at each other. They were saved from responding as the waitress returned. "Hey." Dean waved her down. "Three more beers?" Before the waitress could ask why three, he added, "I'm just saving you one trip." 

The waitress smiled. "Much appreciated, honey." She walked away. Less than a minute she returned, carrying three beers. She placed them on the table. "Here you go, guys."

"You know, do me a favor, sweetheart. Would you bring me a cheeseburger with extra bacon? And a fried egg on top of it, would you?" 

"Absolutely."

"Ooh that, that sounds good. Ditto."

"Anything for you, darling?"

Alex pondered for a moment. "Uh, yeah. Bacon cheeseburger, extra bacon."

"Need a refill on that drink there?" 

"No thanks. I'm good for now." 

"Be right back with your order." The waitress walked away. 

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sam?" Dean turned to look at his brother. 

Sam immediately went on the defense. "W-What do you mean?" 

"Bacon cheeseburgers now?" 

"I don't know. I eat them, don't I?" Before they could respond, Sam added, "Anyways, we are celebrating." He raised his whiskey shot as a toast.

"Yeah, I guess." Dean raised his beer. "Another one bites the dust. Nice work today." Alex grunted in agreement. She cracked open Dean's second beer, and, with a look around, poured it into her glass. 

"You too. I had a, uh, really awesome day, man. Seriously." He tipped his head back, downing his drink. "Whoo! Sweet."

Dean looked at Alex, who shook her head. "A really awesome day?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Why not?" 

"It was a random, D-list ghost hunt. That's -- that's awesome to you?" Dean looked skeptical.

"I can't be in a good mood?" 

"Yeah, I guess. It's just . . ." He trailed off. "No, actually. It's not really your style, Sam."

"Well, then, it's a new me. I mean, come on. Why shouldn't I be happy? I've got a gun, I'm getting drunk, and," Sam pointed directly at his face, "I look like this." 

Dean and Alex exchanged looks once again.

Sam sighed, not noticing their exchange. "I don't know. You ever feel like your whole future is being decided for you?" 

Another exchanged look. This one of pure confusion. "Uh, yeah, Sam, I feel like that a lot."

"You're the devil's vessel," Alex added helpfully.

Sam looked at her, an eyebrow raised. Then he turned back to Dean. "No matter how much you fight it, you can't stop the plan. The stupid, stupid plan. So, I don't know. I guess, uh, it's just nice to do a little ass-kicking for a change, that's all. Uh, you know, what? I -- I'm drunk." Sam let out a chuckle. "Sorry. Just -- just forget it." 

"No, no. It's all right. It's, uh . . . I'll drink to that." He raised his beer once again. Sam did the same, and the bottles clinked together. Dean took a long drink. "Wow, you know, it it just me, or are we actually drinking together?"

"We don't do that often, huh?"

Dean let out a scoffing noise. "Yeah, you could say that." He looked over at Alex. "Especially not with Pip along." 

Alex smiled up at him before returning her attention to the ice cubes in her beer. 

"Well, we should. You're a good guy, Dean." 

Dean shook his head. "Oh, you are drunk." 

At that moment, the waitress returned, carrying three plates. "Here you go." She handed them out.

"Mmm." Dean picked up his burger. "Thank you."

"Enjoy." The waitress winked at Dean then walked away. 

"No, I mean it." Sam picked up his burger as well. "You're a really good guy." He took a bite, and his eyes closed. "Mmm! The bread alone! Mmm!"

Alex swirled her fry around in the ketchup, confused. She looked up at Dean, who was completely focused on his food. 

 

 **T** hey ate in relative silence, the two Winchesters far too focused on their food to bother much more than small talk. Sam finished in record time. Then he stood up. "I'm going to get something more alcohol," he told Dean excitedly, then hurried over to the bar.

Alex frowned, finishing the last of her burger. "Dude, something's seriously wrong," she finally said. 

"No kidding." Dean glanced over his shoulder to where Sam was talking with a blonde. 

"That's not Sam. Like, seriously. That's not Sam."

Dean turned his attention back to her. "You sure?" 

Alex held his emerald green gaze. "He freaked out when he walked into my room and saw I wasn't wearing a shirt. Then he got . . . weird."

Dean frowned darkly. "I was wondering about that 'Horndog' thing."

Alex looked over at Sam. He was still talking to the lady, eyes wide. Then they got up. The woman led Sam towards the door. Seeing where her attention lay, Dean turned, locking eyes with his brother. 

"We're gonna do it!" Sam whispered loudly, giving them a thumbs up. Then he left. 

Dean turned back to the table, eyes darkening. He got up, but Alex grabbed his arm. "That's not going to help."

Dean sat back down. "I'm going to kill that bastard," he growled. 

"Yeah." Alex let go of the Winchester. "Well, he's not a shifter. Doesn't react to silver."

"You tested him?"

"Damn right I tested him." Alex pulled the small silver cross back out of her pocket. She dropped it on the table. "Besides. Shifters get their victim's memories too, right? That guy was an idiot."

"Not a revenant cause Sam's not dead," Dean added. "That leaves possession."

"Not with that tattoo." Alex took a sip of her beer. "My bet's on some sort of Freaky Friday shit."

"Great. Witches."

"I'll call Bobby. He might know how to track down someone by their soul. Otherwise we can always try Cas."

"And what about the dude running around in Sam's skinsuit?"

Alex closed her eyes. "We should probably keep a close eye on him. Something, uh, something tells me that Lucifer isn't going to care if it's Sam in there or not." She reached for her phone, then stopped. "Dammit. I forgot I lost my phone." 

"I've got extras in the glove compartment." Dean held out his keys, and Alex took them, hurrying out of the bar. 

She unlocked the driver's side door and crawled across the leather seats, opening the glove compartment. She dug around, frowning. Nothing. All the phones were gone.

Alex quickly locked the car back up and circled around to the trunk. She opened the weapon's box, pawing around, until she came across a black flip phone. She shoved it in her pocket, locked the trunk, then returned to the bar.

She slid into her seat next to Dean. "I found one phone in the trunk. That's it." She placed it on the table. "All others are gone."

Dean cursed under his breath, looking up at the ceiling to try and calm himself. "Okay. Uh, you see if you can figure out how to track down Sam. My guess is our phones are back at the first motel. I'll see if I can find them, then try and stop this guy before he does something stupid."

Alex nodded. "Yeah, okay. Call if there's anything new." 

"Yeah." Dean tossed some money onto the table then left. Alex grabbed Dean's beer. Then she dialed Bobby's number. 

"Hello." 

"Hey, Bobby. Alex." 

"What's up?" 

"Uh, I need a spell." 

"What did those idjits do now?" 

Alex chuckled. "I, uh, I need to track down Sam." 

"Trace his cell."

"He doesn't have it on him."

"Got some DNA? I got a tracking spell somewhere."

"Uh, yeah. That's not going to work either."

"And why not? He's running around without his body now?"

"More or less." Alex reached over and grabbed a fry that Dean had missed. "Some guy, uh, swapped minds with Sam. Dean's tracking down, uh . . . Sam's body. I have to find his mind."

Bobby was silent for several seconds. "I got nothing," he finally admitted. "You don't know anything about they guy he's in."

"No. Yesterday at six he was normal, and the next time we see him it's two in the morning and the dude backed the Impala into a dumpster." Alex paused. "He, uh, sounds like a kid, or maybe a teen? Overly excited, references to video games." She huffed in amusement. "Looks like he's never had sex before."

"Did you call the cops?" 

"Uh, no. Why would I do that?" 

"Sam's probably stuck in a teenage body. Maybe he's got parents. If we was out to two like you said, maybe they got worried." 

Alex nodded. "That makes sense. Thanks Bobby."

"Yup." Bobby hung up. 

Alex sighed, then dialed the local police department's number. "Hey. This is Agent Ford, FBI. Do you have a few minutes?" 

 

 **A** lex kicked a rock down the street, pulling her jacket tighter around her. It might be Mississippi, but it was also February, and it was cold. She looked down at the words she had scrawled on the napkin. 1708 Fairway Drive. She looked up. There. 

Alex hurried up the drive, digging through her jacket. She felt the rectangular form of an ID, and she hoped it was the right one. She knocked on the door, glancing down at the laminated card. Police Department. Perfect. 

"Hello?" A woman answered the door. "Can I help you?" 

"Hi. I'm with the police." Alex held up her badge. "Is your son Gary home?" 

A man joined them at the door. "What do you want with Gary?" 

"I just need to ask him a few questions," Alex promised. "He's not in any trouble, I assure you."

The two parents exchanged looks. "He's at his friend's house for a sleepover," the woman finally said. 

"Can I have his address?"

 

 **A** lex knocked soundly on the wooden door. A light rain had started up, and now she was wet and cold. Gary's friend -- his name was Trevor -- lived on the opposite side of town, and it had taken her almost an hour to walk there. While she waited for an answer, her phone rang. She answered. "Hello."

"Hey. You found Sam yet?" 

"Possibly." Alex knocked on the door once again. "Bobby couldn't find a spell, but after a bit of talking, we realized that whoever's inside of Sam is probably a kid. Teen, actually. Just took a few calls to the police. We'll see if it pans out." There was still no answer, and she peered through the window. "What about you? He back yet?"

"Nope." 

"Okay, I"m going to have to break into this house. Talk later." Alex hung up and circled around. The backdoor slid open, and she stepped into the kitchen. The house was dark and quiet. Alex silently searched the main floor, then the upstairs. A violent scream had her jumping. She ran down the stairs. "Sleepover my ass," she grumbled through gritted teeth, nerves still on end. She paused by the basement door. Light came from under it, and Alex paused, listening for voices. There was nothing.

Alex pushed open the door, and stepped onto the top stair, freezing as it creaked. The basement fell completely silent. 

"Who's there?" That was a boy's voice. Scared. 

Alex descended three more stairs, just enough for her to see into the room. It was a boy, probably seventeen. Stringy dark brown hair, blue and white striped shirt, blue puffer vest. His hands and legs were tied with white rope.

Their eyes met. "A-Alex?" 

Alex hurried down the stairs, gun still drawn. "Sam, I presume." However, she wasn't completely sure. "What's my last name?"

The boy looked surprised. "I -- you never told us," he admitted lamely. "I don't know." When Alex didn't say anything, he repeated, "I-I still don't know."

Alex smiled, leaning against the wall. "Good boy, Sammy. On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you hate me?"

"Uh, like, five seconds ago it was a 1, but I think we're at a 4 right now." Sam struggled. "Get over here and untie me."

Alex walked over to the boy, ignoring his agitated voice. "I'm going to untie you. So. This is Gary." 

"Yeah." 

Alex untied his hands, then let him finish as she pulled out her phone, dialing the motel's number. "Who's that?" She pointed to the boy who lay on the ground, a large hole in his chest. 

"Uh, Trevor." Sam stood up. "Listen, we have to find Dean. They're going to kill him."

Dean didn't answer the phone, and Alex snapped the cell closed in disgust. "Not answering." She sighed. "He's probably okay. We know something's up with you -- er, your body." She turned, eyes falling on the boy. "Oh my God, we're almost the same height." She grinned. "You're short." She poked him in the chest. "Dude, this is so cool." 

Sam knocked her hand away. "Shut up. We need to find Dean."

"We don't have a car." Alex knelt beside Trevor, fruitlessly searching for a pulse. 

"What? We're on like, the other side of town!" 

"Well, that says a lot about me, now doesn't it? Took me two hours of walking, a call to the sheriff, and one irritating call to Bobby, but here I am, still saving your ass." She looked over at Sam and laughed again. "I'm sorry," she immediately apologized. "I -- you're so scrawny it's funny." 

Sam picked up a leather bond book. "The demons after Dean. They put out an ABP, wanted dead or alive. Preferably dead."

"Did you just reference Bon Jovi?" Alex shook her head in disbelief. 

"Did you just hear me?"

Alex turned to Sam. Do they really want to kill Dean?" she scoffed. "That's a terrible idea. now you, I could see why they'd want to kill you. Don't get offended," she added when Sam made a face. "I'm serious. If they kill you, Lucifer gets a free ride in your meatsuit. He doesn't need your consent if if you're not gonna bunk together. Same goes for Michael and Dean."

"O-Okay. So that doesn't explain why they haven't killed me."

Alex frowned. "Well, hate to say it, but Lucifer's into the more traditional sense of getting a vessel. He'll use his charm, wit to try and, uh, woo you into consenting. Of course, right now there's a dude in your skin that's totally oblivious to that." Just then, her phone rang. Alex quickly answered. "Dean?" 

"Hey. I got, uh, Gary here, and some girl. The demon's gone, and everything's under control."

Alex sighed in relief. "That's great. I've got Sam." She quickly gave the address and hung up. "Dean's on his way."

"Great." Sam hurried upstairs. Alex followed. "Here." Sam handed Alex a blanket. "You're shivering."

Alex held out her hand, watching it tremble. "I'm cold," she realized, quickly shedding her wet jacket. She thankfully accepted the blanket, draping it over her shoulders. 

 

 **T** en minutes later the ever-familiar Chevy Impala pulled into the driveway. Dean got out, and a pouting and petulant Sam followed. A young girl got out of the backseat, eyes wide. Alex opened the front door. "Come on in." She stepped out of the way as Dean entered, followed by the other two. 

Gary and Sam stared at each other, unblinking. Alex nudged the short one. "Come on. There's got to be a way to reverse this."

The taller man nodded. "There's a spell," he muttered. He led the way down to the basement. 

 

 **W** ithin five minutes Gary had set up everything he needed. He sat down across from Sam. The girl, who's name was Nora, was sitting on the bed, tightly wrapped in Alex's blanket. Alex stood beside Dean, watching the other two men. 

Gary closed his eyes. " _Animae domum redeant. Fas atque nefas instaure. Potestate et auctoritate, sic fiat._ " 

It was latin. Alex closed her eyes. She knew several of those words, and she let it roughly translate in her brain. _Soul return home. Right and wrong be . . ._ Alex didn't know this word. Put right? Restored? . . . Power and authority, so be it. 

There was a bright flash of light as Gary dropped some powder in to the bowl. When it faded, Sam got too his feet, looking at himself in the mirror. 

"So? We good?" Dean looked between the two men. 

"Yeah. We're good. Oh man, it's nice to be back."

"Yeah," Gary grumbled. "Awesome." 

Dean turned his attention to the teen, crossing his arms. "So . . ." He cleared his throat. "Gary." 

"I know. My bad." 

" 'My bad?' Kid, 'my bad' ain't going to cut it." Dean's eyes flashed. "See, if you were of voting age . . . you'd be dead. Because we would kill you. So either you straighten up and fly right or we will kill you. Are we clear?" 

He took a menacing step forward, and Alex reached out, catching his arm. "Dean," she murmured. 

Gary shifted nervously. "Crystal," he promised. 

Dean relaxed. "Good." He looked around, anger dispersed. "Let's get you two home." 

 

 **A** lex slid out of the front seat. Having simply refused to sit in the back with the two teens, she had squeezed in between the two Winchesters for the five minute drive to Gary's house. 

Gary and Nora got out as well. The girl retreated several steps, ready to enter the house. Gary looked towards the door. "Crap."

Sam sighed. "Gary, take it from someone who knows -- chin up, man. Your life ain't so bad." 

"Uh, you met my parents."

"Yeah. So what?" Sam shook his head. "It's your life. You don't like their plan for you, tell them to cram it. Rebel a little bit. In a healthy, non-Satanic way, of course." He lowered his voice. "By the way, you know why Nora's into witchcraft?" 

Gary looked confused. "What do you mean?" 

"She doesn't like Satan, you moron. She likes you."

The teen's face went from confusion to a guarded grin. "Really? You mean it?" 

"Yeah, I know. I'm telling you, kid -- I wish I had your life." 

"You do?" Gary smiled. "Thanks."

Sam nodded. "Get out of here."

Gary nodded, and he and Nora hurried into the house. Dean watched them go. "That was a nice thing to say," he finally said, turning back to the car.

Sam snorted. "I totally lied. That kid's life sucked ass." 

Alex laughed, getting into the backseat. The two Winchesters got into the front. 

"All that apple-pie, family crap?" Sam continued. "It's stressful. Trust me -- we didn't miss a damn thing." 

"Or we don't know what we're missing." Signaling the end of the conversation, Dean turned on the radio. Alex let out a sigh. Bob Seger again. 

Sam groaned. "Oh, come on, man. Turn it down." 

Dean chuckled. "Welcome back, Kotter."


	40. The Song Remains the Same

**February 12th, 2010**

**Greenville, Flordia**

**I** t was a few days later. They had stopped in a motel down in Florida, and were enjoying a few fleeting days of warm weather. Well, Alex was. Sam and Dean were still vigorously trying to a handle on the impending apocalypse. 

Alex lay splayed out on the bed. "I'm bored," she insisted for the seventh time that hour. 

"Go outside." Sam barely even glanced at her, too focused on his work. 

"Maybe we should take a break, Sammy." Dean stood up, back arching slightly as he stretched. "We've been going at this for, what? Six hours now?" 

Sam looked like he was going to argue, but decided against it. "Yeah, sure. Whatever." He stood up, shutting his laptop. "So, uh, what do you want to do?"

"Let's go get ice cream." Alex jumped to her feet, eyes wide with excitement. 

Sam shook his head. "We should go swimming. There's a pool out back."

Alex nodded, perfectly okay with that idea. "Okay." She dug around in her bag. "I want to go swimming." She pulled out a black shirt and white basketball shorts. "I like swimming." She quickly ducked into the bathroom, barely bothering to close the door. She changed, kicked her other clothes into the corner, then reemerged. 

Sam was already changed, now wearing only a pair of boxers. "Ready?" 

"Yeah." Alex looked over at Dean. "You coming?" 

"In a few minutes. I'll bring towels out." 

"Thanks." Alex grabbed Sam's hand and dragged him towards the door. Sam followed. They got halfway to the pool before Alex tapped Sam's back. "The ground's hot," she whined playfully. "Piggyback?" 

Sam hesitated, then held out his hands. Alex eagerly climbed onto his back, arms wrapping around his sturdy neck. "You ready?" 

"Yeah -- woah!" Alex let out a small noise as Sam started walking, then broke into a run. She pushed herself even closer to the hunter, tightening her grip around his neck and waist. She buried her head in his neck. "Sam!" 

Sam turned into the pool yard. However, he didn't slow down, but kept racing towards the pool. Alex screamed as he launched them into the water. Then she shut her mouth and closed her eyes as she went under. Sam let her go, and she pushed herself towards the surface, spluttering. She opened her eyes to see Sam floating on his back, watching her lazily. 

"You're an idiot." Alex splashed him playfully.

Sam righted himself; he could stand completely flatfooted. "I was going to do a flip," he grinned. "Remember when I told you I was going to throw you in a lake?" 

Alex swam past the Winchester until she could stand as well. "That was like a month ago," she insisted, brushing her wet hair out of her face. 

"Yeah, well, I keep good on my promises." 

 

 **A** lex woke with a start. Beside her, the bed shifted as Dean sat up abruptly. Alex flicked on the light, sitting up as well. "Dean?" It was that night - well, the next morning, Alex realized as she glanced at the clock. "Dean?" 

Dean stared at the far wall for several seconds before looking down at Alex. "What?" 

"Nightmare?" Alex crossed her legs, reaching up to touch the man's shoulder. His bare skin was warm beneath her hand.

Dean threw back the covers. "Sam?" 

"Right here." Sam looked over at his brother from where he was seated at the table. "You okay?"

"You're still working?" Dean walked over to him, glancing at the laptop. "Get some sleep, dude." 

"No , I, uh," Sam rubbed his eye, "I thought I found something. It's nothing though." He sighed, shutting his laptop. "What's up?"

"I had a dream." Dean sat down, reaching of his half-filled glass of whiskey. 

"If this is about porn . . ." Sam started. 

"No, no. Nothing like that. I, uh, Anna found me. In my dream. She said that she had something to tell us. She gave me an address." He stood up, walking towards the bathroom. "Said it was urgent." 

"S-Should we call Cas?" Alex watched him go. When Dean raised an eyebrow, she defended, "I mean, do we trust Anna? We haven't seen her in like, what? A year? We don't know whose side she's really on. It's just a safe thing to do," she finished.

Dean hesitated. "Yeah. You do that." 

"I don't know where we're going."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. I'll do it." With that, he disappeared into the bathroom. "We're leaving as soon as I hit the head." 

Alex rolled over, not wanting to get up. "Can't it wait till morning?" 

"No!" Dean yelled from the bathroom. 

Alex let out a wordless groan after him, but pulled herself out from under the covers. 

 

 **F** ive minutes passed before they had everything packed. Alex yawned, reaching for the doorknob, when Castiel appeared. "Stop." 

Alex turned, confused. "Cas?" The angel stood behind her, several bowls and jars in his hand. "Whatcha got there?"

Dean and Sam looked up from where they were grabbing their bags off of the bed. "Uh, hey." Dean studied the angel, confused. "Didn't I tell you to meet us at the place?" 

"Anna's not there anymore." Castiel walked over to the kitchen table. He set several things down on the table, and Alex tipped her head.

"Okay. Then where is she?" Dean's lips twisted into a frown. "Did she get dragged back to Heaven?"

"No. I don't know where she is." With a sweep of his hand, Castiel had cleared the table of the last remaining beer bottles. They clattered to the floor. "Not yet."

"We should find her." Dean irritatedly picked the bottles up and placed them on the counter. "She said she knows something. She said she could help."

Castiel shook his head. "She can't help. It was a trap." He looked up. "She wants to kill Sam. Not just kill him; she's going to destroy him so completely that Lucifer will never be able to bring him back."

Sam sat down on the far bed, while Dean paced over to Cas, and then back, trying to take it all in. "Really? Anna?" he finally said. "I don't believe it."

"It's true." From his pocket, Castiel produced a piece of chalk and proceeded to draw on the table. Alex walked over to him and watched, interested at the strange, circular sigil. 

"So she's gone all Glenn Close, huh?" Dean frowned. "That's awesome."

Castiel straightened up, head tipped in confusion. "Who's Glenn Close?"

"It's not relevant." Alex promised.

"No one." Dean walked over to Sam. "Just this psycho bitch who likes to boil rabbits."

"So the plan to kill me." Sam cut his brother off. "Would it actually stop Satan?"

"No, Sam, come on." Dean glanced over at his brother, eyes dark.

Sam held Dean's gaze for a moment, then looked over at Castiel. "Cas, what do you think? Does Anna have a point?" 

Alex watched as Dean looked at Castiel. Cas looked up, first at Dean, then at Sam. "No," he finally said. "She's, uh, Glenn Close."

Sam lowered his gaze, and Dean walked over to Cas. "I don't get it. We're looking for the chick that wants to gank Sam. Why poke the bear?"

"Anna will keep trying. She won't give up until Sam is dead." Castiel finished the sigil and chucked the chalk aside. "So we kill her first." He poured some sort of oil into a bowl, and placed it in the in the center. "Zod ah ma ra la ee est la gi ro sa." At the Enochian words, red flames jumped out of the bowl, licking at the air. Castiel took a step back, eyes falling close, one arm going out to stabilize himself. His breathing grew heavy, as if he was physically exerting himself instead of just standing there. Alex looked over at Sam and Dean, face dark with worry. They wore similar expressions. Castiel looked up. "I found her."

"Where is she?" 

The angel shook his head. "Not where. When." He stood up. "It's 1978." 

"What?" Sam stood up and walked over to stand by his brother, confused. "Why 1978? I wasn't even born yet."

"You won't be if she kills your parents?" 

"What?" Sam's voice still sounded confused.

Castiel walked over to the two Winchesters, and Alex followed. "Anna can't get to you because of me," the angel told him. "So she's going after them."

"Take us back right now," Dean demanded, eyes cold. 

"And deliver you right to Anna?" the angel countered. "I should go alone." 

"They're our parents. Cas, we're going." 

"It's not that easy." Castiel turned away, retreating several steps. 

"Why not?" Sam challenged. 

"Time travel was difficult even with the powers of heaven at my disposal."

"And now you're cut off," Alex added. 

"So, what, you're like a Delorean without enough plutonium?" 

"Dean," Alex sighed.

"I don't understand that reference." Castiel turned to face them once again. "But I'm telling you, taking this trip, with passengers no less," the angel shook his head, "it'll weaken me."

Dean walked up to Castiel, voice quiet. "They're our mom and dad. If we can save them, and not just from Anna . . . I mean if we can set things right, we have to try." 

"I'll stay behind," Alex volunteered. "I mean, the less people you take, the stronger you are, Cas."

Castiel hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. We need to be prepared." 

 

 **T** en minutes later, Alex handed Castiel the second of two large ceramic jars, both containing holy oil. "I don't get it." She watched as he packed them away into a dark duffle bag before slipping his angel blade in beside them. "Why would Anna do this? What's she got against Sam?"

"Nothing. When I . . . told Heaven of her whereabouts, she . . ." The angel paused. "Either she is working for Heaven, or she's rebelled again. It doesn't change what we must do." The angel tugged the two flaps together, and Alex reached over and zipped the bag up without explaining. Castiel turned to the two Winchesters. "Ready?" 

Sam looked slightly nervous. "Not really," he admitted. He took the bag off of the table and swung it up over his shoulder.

"Bend your knees," Dean suggested lightly. 

"And don't get killed," Alex added. "Seriously. Stay safe." 

Sam nodded, while Dean just let out a huff. Castiel reached out, placing two fingers on their foreheads. Then they were gone. 

Alex sighed, looking around the empty motel room. "Great."

 

 **T** he night passed, and still no sign of them. The next morning, Alex had a light breakfast, went for a jog -- by jogging she meant that she ran for five minutes then ended up walking around the park. She returned to her motel, sipping a large water she had grabbed at the gas station across the street. The room was still empty, and Alex sighed. "I'm bored," she told no one. She looked up towards the sky. "Castiel? Don't come. I'm just wondering if you're okay." She tipped her head to the other side, chewing on the inside of her cheek, trying to think of what other angels she knew that wasn't a total dick. "Gabriel?" she finally asked. "Hey. Want to talk? Grab something to eat? There's a candy store down the street," she added, knowing the archangel's sweet tooth well. "My treat."

Nothing. 

The human sighed. "Listen. I'm alone. No tricks. I'm bored, and I know you probably have questions. Uh, oh, uh, right. Cas carved up my ribs. Uh, motel across from the Gas 'n Sip, Greenville, Florida." 

Still nothing.

Alex grunted. "You know what? Fine. Be that way. Screw you, you winged dick." She ended up muttering those last words, tossing her water bottle onto the table. She paused, looking down at the chalk sigil. "That better come off." 

 

 **T** wo days. Two whole days she waited for them to come back. Finally, two full nights later, Sam and Dean burst through the motel door. 

Alex looked up. For several seconds she just stared at them, chewing on her burger. "It's about time," she finally said. "What the hell happened to you?" 

Dean shook his head. "Well, uh, Anna's dead."

"So I see." Alex studied the taller hunter, who sat down beside her. "Sam's still alive. Anything else?" 

"We'll talk later." Dean walked over to the fridge. "First, I need a drink." He pulled out a bottle of whiskey. Sam got up and unwrapped two cups from their plastic wrap, setting them down on the table. 

Sam looked up briefly, then started. "Castiel." The hunter spun around just in time to catch the falling angel. "Hey. Hey, hey. Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa." 

Alex jumped, eyes wide. 

"Cas!" Dean hurried over to help support the angel.

"We got you." Sam shifted his weight, trying to keep the angel up. 

"You son of a bitch. You made it." 

"I . . . I did?" Castiel looked between Sam and Dean. "I'm very surprised." He looked over at Alex, andthen his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 

The angel went limp, and Dean grunted at the extra weight. "Whoa whoa whoa who whoa." He looked over at Sam. "Bed?" 

Yeah, yeah." Sam and Dean carefully hauled the angel over to the near bed, laying him down on it. 

Alex hurried over to the unconscious angel. She placed a hand on his forehead. "Whoa." She looked up at Dean, eyes wide. "Oh my God. He's burning up." She looked back down at the angel.

Dean let out a breath."Well, I could use that drink now."

"Yeah." 

Alex hurried into the bathroom as the Dean poured his brother a drink. She wet a washcloth then returned to Castiel. 

"Well . . ." Dean was saying, "this is it." 

"This is what?" Sam picked up his glass and took a sip.

"Team Free Will." Dean's gaze drifted over to Castiel. "One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with six bucks to his name, some lost girl, and Mr. Comatose over there. It's awesome."

Alex laid the washcloth across the angel's forehead, trying to cool him down. 

"It's not funny," she heard Sam say.

"I'm not laughing." 

Sam sighed. "The all say we'll say yes."

"I know. It's getting annoying." 

"What if they're right?" 

There was a pause as Dean took a drink. "They're not," he promised. 

Alex looked up. "They're not," she agreed. She turned back to Castiel.

"I mean, why, why would we, either of us?" Sam hesitated. "But . . . I've been weak before." 

"Sam." 

"Michael got Dad to say yes."

"Michael?" Alex looked up sharply. "He was there?" 

"He, uh, yeah. I'll explain later."

"Damn right you will." Alex narrowed her eyes in worry. "I don't trust him, Dean." 

"Yeah. Ditto. And that was different." Dean turned back to Sam. "Anna was about to kill Mom." 

"And if you could save Mom . . . what would you say?" 

Dean fell silent. He took another long drink before turning to refill his glass. 

Alex sighed. "Are either of you going to tell me what happened?" 

Dean approached, and sat down on the bed opposite Alex. "We found our parents." His eyes flickered over to Castiel. "They were already married. Mom, Mom was --"

"Can we get to the relevant parts?" Alex cut the Winchester off, running a light finger across Castiel's cheek. She shook her head. "Sorry. I just mean--"

"No, no. It's fine." Dean shrugged. "We were holed up in some abandoned house after Anna tried to kill Dad. She brought Uriel with her--"

"Uriel?" Alex's frown darkened. "That son of a bitch."

"Yeah, well, whatever. Anyways. Every plan we had backfired. Anna -- she, uh," Dean dropped his gaze to his glass, "she killed Sam."

"That's when Michael showed up," Alex guessed. "Possessing John."

"Yeah. Apparently even though I'm the, uh, true vessel or whatever, he could still possess John cause," Dean shook his head. "Something about our bloodline."

"Back to Cain and Abel." Alex nodded. "I knew that. Michael can possess anyone that carries your blood." 

"Yeah."

"And he helped you? Just like that?"

"Yeah." Dean sighed, standing up. "He's confident I'm gonna say yes." The hunter let out a forced laugh. "Like he knows."

Alex sighed. "Yeah," she murmured. She pulled the washcloth off of the angel's forehead, brushing his damp hair out of the way.

"Is Cas okay?" Sam looked up from the table. 

"He's really warm," the girl fretted. 

"He's not gonna die from a fever," Dean snorted. 

"Angels shouldn't get fevers. They don't change internal temperatures; that's why he's never cold even when it's ten below." She shook her head. "But now he's rebelled and losing grace." Alex looked up. "I don't want to take any chances."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. Dean nodded understandingly. Sam, however, tipped his head. "Cas told you why he's never cold?"

Alex shrugged. "He's interesting to talk to." 

 

 **M** ovement woke her. Alex groggily opened her eyes. "What?" She sat up, confused. The lights were off, but there was enough moonlight to tell that the Winchesters weren't there. "Cas?"

The angel looked down at the girl, blue eyes glowing in the moonlight. "Go back to bed." 

Alex rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "What?" she repeated. "S-Sorry. I must have fallen asleep." She got up. "I, uh, Sam and Dean must be out at a bar or something. How are you feeling?" 

"Sluggish. Tired." The angel blinked. "I'll be fine."

"You sure? You had us worried." Alex smoothed down her messy hair. "You had a really bad fever and were totally unconscious."

"Yes. I . . . overheated."

"Overheated?" Alex snorted. "Dean was right. You really are a Delorean." 

"I still don't understand." Castiel paused, then added, "There's not an english translation for the word I wished to use. I, I could explain it to you, but it's complicated."

"Oh, uh, okay. Maybe some other time." 

"Yes, that would work better." Castiel reached up, touching his still-damp hair. "Is there a reason my head is wet?" 

"I was trying to control the fever." Alex crawled across the bed and turned on the light. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? If you want to stay and rest some more, I'll take the other bed."

Castiel shook his head. "No. I should go. I'll be in touch." And with that, he was gone.

Alex frowned. "Yeah. Be in touch." She sighed. "Be careful, Cas."


	41. My Bloody Valentine

**February 16th, 2010**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**A** lex followed Dean into the St. James Medical Center. She adjusted the collar of her blouse, looking around. They had driven up last night after catching wind of what the papers called a 'sexual suicide.' What that meant . . . well, they were about to find out. But Alex was pretty sure the word 'cannibal' had come up in Sam's briefing. She ran fingers through her blonde hair, letting out a soft breath.

"Yeah. Agents Marley and Ford," Dean was saying. Alex flashed her ID, not giving them enough time for them to properly inspect it. "We're here to see, you know?"

"Ah yes. My name is Dr. Corman. Come right in." The man ushered them farther into the building and down several white hallways. Alex faintly smiled. He looked like a nice man. A little overweight, but nice. She followed them into the morgue. "I'm not really sure what to make of it myself," the doctor admitted. "It's . . . unusual, to say the least." With that, he pulled open one of the cold chamber compartments, sliding it out. He pulled back the white sheets, and both Alex and Dean visibly recoiled. The man's body was mutilated. Chunks of flesh were missing from several parts of the body, and blood stained the mouth, chunks of flesh still caught in the lips.

Dr. Corman opened a second cold chamber, pulling back the sheet. It was a young woman with the same type of wounds, ranging down to the stomach. "Are those bite marks?" Alex looked over at the doctor, who shared their disgust.

"Uh, yeah."

"So let me get this straight. They ate each other. Seriously?" Dean seemed just as disturbed.

"Yes. That is what we believe." The doctor moved over to the first body. "The autopsy showed that their stomachs were completely filled with flesh. It's like they literally ate until they were stuffed."

"That's, that's . . . " Dean started,

"Yeah," Dr. Corman agreed.

“What were you thinking caused it?” Alex asked.

“Drugs, maybe.”

“Like PCP? Kind of like Big Lurch.”

The coroner just stared at Alex in confusion, so Dean broke in. ”Okay. Well, thank you." Dean nodded in farewell. "Uh, if we have anymore questions, we'll call."

"Okay." The doctor began putting the bodies away, and Dean and Alex left.

"That was disgusting." Alex said when they finally left. "Why didn't I go with Sam again?"

Dean snorted in agreement. Then he looked down at Alex. "Big Lurch?"

The girl shrugged. "Felt like an apt comparison."

Dean didn't protest.

 

 **H** e drove them back to the motel they had checked into last night, and Alex immediately changed back into jeans and a t-shirt. She exited the bathroom, pulling on a large grey sweatshirt. "Dude," she told Dean. "Turn up the heat. We're back in Sioux Falls, if you haven't noticed. It's freezing up here."

"Turn it up yourself," Dean retorted, not looking up from his laptop. He had taken off his suit coat, and now only wore his blue-striped tie and oxford. "Catch." He tossed her a beer bottle.

Alex reached out, catching it a little less than gracefully. "Thanks." She walked over to the heater, placed the bottle on the heater, and turned it up. At that moment, the door opened, and Sam walked through. Without saying a word, he took the bottle off of the heater.

"Hey!" Alex protested. Sam ignored her. He dropped two fast food bags on the table.

"How'd it go?" Dean looked up.

"Umm, no EMF, no sulphur. Ghost possession and demonic possession are both probably out."

"Hm. That's were I was putting my money." Dean sighed.

Alex walked over, stealing her drink back. She opened one of the bags. "Is this for me?" she asked, pulling out a burger.

"One for you, one for Dean. Fries as well."

"Awesome. Thanks man." Alex unwrapped hers, then paused. "Not really sure if I feel like eating yet." she admitted. When Sam let out a snort, she added defensively. "Hey. You wouldn't be hungry if _you_ had gone down to look at those bodies."

"That bad?"

"It was disgusting." Dean backed her up. "I mean, those two started eating, a-and they just . . . kept going. I mean, their stomachs were full. Like, like . . . Thanksgiving dinner full. Talk about codependent." He stood up, walking over to the counter. He leaned against it, shaking his head.

Sam grimaced. "Well . . . we got out feelers out. Not much more we can do tonight. All right, I'm just going to go through some files. You go ahead and get going."

Alex returned to the bed, still staring down at her burger. She forced herself to take a bite. Yum. Then she puked her her mouth a little. Stupid bodies.

"Sorry?" she heard Dean ask as she forced herself to keep eating.

"Go ahead," Sam repeated. "Unleash the kraken. See you tomorrow morning."

"Where am I going?" Dean looked completely confused.

"Dean, it's Valentine's Day. You're favorite holiday, remember? I mean, what do you call it -- unattached drifter Christmas?" Alex chuckled at Sam's words.

"Oh yeah." Dean let of a faint smile. "Well, be that as it may, I don't know. Guess I'm not really feeling it this year."

"So you're not into bars full of lonely women?" Sam looked unconvinced. Alex gave up on the burger. She tossed it onto the table, and started on the fries. Much better.

"Nah, I guess not." Dean took a sip of his beer. Alex watched their interaction closely. Dean caught a look on Sam's face. "What?"

"That's when a dog doesn't eat. That's when you know something's really wrong."

"Remarkably patronizing concern duly noted. Now, are we going to work or what?" He sat down at the table next to Sam, who looked over at Alex, worried. She narrowed her eyes, sharing in his worry. Something definitely seemed wrong.

 

 **A** lex finally managed to get approximately an hour of sleep the next morning, even after staying up the whole night. She found a bag on the table. Inside were two breakfast tacos and a note saying that Sam was at the library and Dean was getting more beer. Alex let out a huff of laughter and glanced at the clock. 11 am. She examined the food. "Do these tacos taste funny to you?" she quoted to herself, chuckling. Then she took a bite. Cold. Of course.

She took a shower, returning to the main room fifteen minutes later. Dean was there, laying on the bed. "Hey."

"Hey," Alex smiled back. She jumped onto the bed next to him. "Bored."

Dean rolled his eyes, pushing her off the side. "You're always bored," he told her.

Sam walked through the door. "So, uh, you guys read the paper yet?" He tossed it over to them.

Dean caught it, reading the front page before looking back up at them. "Another double suicide?"

"Looks like it." Sam nodded. "The bodies are down at St. James. Should we go take a look?" When Dean agreed, he grabbed his bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Can I come?" Alex asked.

Dean hesitated. "Do you want to?"

"Hells yeah," Alex nodded. She waited for Sam to come out before going back into change. When she came out, Dean already had changed. "Ready?" When Alex nodded, he added, "Okay. Let's roll."

 

 **T** hey drove down to St. James Medical Center. The walked through the door, showed their badges, and headed down the hall. They passed a bald man in a suit and tie, carrying a brief case. Sam turned to stare at him, a strange expression on his face. "You okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam shook the feeling off.

They walked through the doors into the autopsy room. Dr. Corman was standing there. "Agents Marley and Ford, you guys just couldn't stay away," he greeted them warmly. Alex smiled.

"Heard you tagged another double suicide." Dean looked around.

"Well, I just finished closing them up."

"Dr. Corman, this is my good friend, Agent Cliff." He motioned to Sam. "He was in the area, and I thought it would be a good idea to call him in."

"Agent Cliff," Dr. Corman acknowledged him. "Well, I've just finished up my prelims. I pulled the organ sets and sent off the tox samples."

"Great. You mind if we take a look at the bodies?"

"Not at all. But like I said, their good-and-plenties are already tupperwared."

"Super."

"Leave the keys up front with Marty when you leave. And please, gentlemen . . . refrigerate after opening." With that, he left. Alex laughed.

Dean walked over to the fridge, and pulled out a couple tupperware containers. He handed one to Alex, who put it down on the examination table before going to grab a pair of gloves. She pulled them on, then cracked open the container. "Stomach. Wonderful."

Both Dean and Sam had grabbed a heart. Dean slid his towards Sam. "Be my Valentine?"

Alex chuckled. Sam just rolled his eyes, turning back to his heart. "Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa," he stopped. "These hearts have identical marks." Alex dropped her stomach, standing up to stand by Sam. "Check it out. It looks like some kind of writing." Alex agreed. It looked familiar. "Oh no."

"What?"

"I think it's Enochian." Sam looked up at Dean.

"You mean like angel scratches? So you think it's like the tagging on our ribs?"

"Dean, I don't know."

Alex studied the marks. "Definitely looks like Enochian," she confirmed. "Shall we call in the expert?"

Dean agreed. "Hell," he muttered, pulling out his phone. "Cas? It's Dean. Room 31-C, basement level, St. James Medical Center."

As he said the last words, Castiel appeared right in front of him, phone next to his ear. "I'm there now," he told him. Alex smiled.

"Yeah, I see that."

"I'm going to hang up now." Castiel hung up the phone.

"Hey angel," Alex joked.

Castiel turned to look at her, slightly confused. "Human." He dipped his head in greeting and Alex grinned broadly. "What's going on?" he asked.

Alex motioned to the the hearts. "Enochian? Sammy seems to think so."

Castiel approached. He picked up one of the hearts, studying it closely. "You're right, Sam. These are angel marks. I imagine you'll find similar marks on the other hearts as well--"

"So what are they?" Sam interrupted. "What do they mean?"

"It's a mark of union. This man and woman were intended to mate." Castiel looked over at Alex as he spoke. Alex's eyes held his for a second before flickering away, blushing.

Dean and Sam exchanged glances. "Okay. But who put them there?"

"Well, your people would call them 'Cupid'."

"A what?"

"What human myth has mistaken 'Cupid' is actually a lower order of angel. Technically, it's a cherub, third-class."

"Cherub?" Dean repeated.

"Yes. They're all over the world. There are dozens of them."

"You mean the little flying kid in diapers?" Dean persisted. Sam rolled his eyes.

"They're not incontinent."

"Okay. Anyways." Sam changed the topic. "So what you're saying--"

"What I'm saying is that a Cupid has gone rogue and we have to stop him. Before he kills again."

Alex looked over at Sam, who caught her eye. "Naturally," Alex agreed, slightly sarcastic.

"Of course we do."

"So, are we done here?" Alex asked. "Cause I'm thinking lunch. Burger, maybe?" She started putting the stomach back into the container. Then she put it in the refrigeration unit. Sam and Dean followed suit.

"You coming, Cassie?" Alex asked. "Maybe track down that Cupid afterwards?"

Castiel nodded. "The Cupid is at the North Spring Bar and Grill."

"Oh." Alex paused. "Okay then. North Springs it is." She glanced over her shoulder. "That okay with you guys?"

"What?" Dean turned back to them. "North Springs? Sure."

"Okay. Meet you in the car?" She paused. "Can we swing by the motel first? Put on normal clothes?"

"Can't we just go straight there?" Dean countered.

"I can take you there right now if you wish," Castiel told her.

"Uh, sure, thanks." Alex took off the rubber gloves, tossing them in the trash. "We'll catch up with you guys when we're done."

"Okay."

Then they were back at the motel. Alex tensed, cursing under her breath. "Give me some warning next time," she snapped lightly at the angel.

"My apologizes."

Alex sighed. "Whatever. Let me change." She grabbed her bag, and disappeared into the bathroom. She quickly changed, pulling on jeans and a clean white t-shirt and a red plaid button-down. Castiel hadn't moved. Alex rolled her eyes, reaching on one of Dean's jackets. "How far away are they from the restaurant?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Approximately five minutes."

"Awesome." Alex smiled, sitting down on side of the bed. "You know, honestly, I love how I can just ask you questions like that and you'll just give me an answer." She laughed at the thought. "That's why you're my best friend, I suppose. Well, that and other reasons."

Castiel looked over at her. "What are the other reasons?" he asked innocently.

The girl blinked. "Well, the fact that you'll ask questions like that. Most people don't. But you do. And I find that amusing. You're funny -- not 'comedian' funny, but 'different' funny." She started listing things off on her fingers. "You don't understand human stuff. It's cool watching you learn about it. You wear a trench coat. Trench coats are cool. You don't really get pissed at me or ignore me. That's always a nice change from Sam and Dean." She ended, slightly embarrassed.

Castiel said nothing for a few seconds. "Thank you," he finally said.

"No problem-o." Alex paused. "What about me?" She let out a nervous chuckle. "I hope you don't think I'm just some weird girl who never shuts up."

"No." Castiel approached, sitting down on the bed across from her. He mimicked Alex, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "You're . . . interesting. I've never known a person quite like you. You're smart, and I assume you are funny--"

"Assume I'm funny?" Alex chuckled.

"I don't understand human humor," Castiel explained.

"So you like me 'cause you think I might be funny, but you're still not sure what 'funny' is."

Castiel thought for a moment. "Yes."

Alex smiled. "Okay. Awesome."

They sat there a few seconds in silence. "What don't you like about me?" Castiel suddenly asked.

Alex looked up, slightly surprised. "What don't I like about you?" she repeated. When Castiel nodded, she thought carefully. "Hm. I don't like when you suddenly appear out of nowhere and give me a heart attack. Not a literal heart attack," she quickly clarified.

"I know Dean finds it, frustrating, when I don't understand what he is trying to say," Castiel admitted.

"Yeah. I know. But I find it cute," Alex chuckled, grabbing her beer off of the nightstand between the bed. "Okay. You're turn." She leaned forward. "What don't you like about me?"

Castiel thought for a second, eyes narrowed in concentration. Then his blue eyes met hers. "I don't like how you are always so sad." Before Alex could protest, he continued. "I can see it in your eyes, even though you try and hide it. It's always there."

Alex avoided his gaze. "You know, most people would say it's because I ramble or don't tell people about the future or whatever."

"I find your rambling . . . amusing." Castiel promised. "And I understand that you are doing your best to help."

Alex let out a dry laugh. "I didn't do a lot of helping when Ellen and Jo died."

Castiel was silent for a moment. "I know you did your best. You're not responsible for us. We have our own lives."

Alex let out another laugh, her good mood slowly returning. "Well, someone needs to watch over you lot," she joked. "You guys keep dying, keep coming back. I've lost count."

Castiel didn't respond, and Alex knew he didn't get the joke. She sighed. "Okay. Let's go." She stood up, and Castiel did as well. Instead of touching her on the forehead or shoulder, however, he took her wrist. Then they were in the backseat of the Impala. Alex leaned forward. "Hello," she whispered in Sam's ear.

He jumped. "Dammit!" he exclaimed. "Don't do that."

Alex just laughed.

"What took you so long?" Dean glanced back at them. "But good timing. We're here."

Alex patted Cas on the shoulder. "Good job, Cassie."

"Thank you."

Dean parked the car, and all four got out. Dean led the way inside. "Table for four, please," he told the woman. She nodded, and led them farther into the darkened restaurant. Valentine decorations were everywhere, even though the holiday had passed. Sam sat down in one of the booths, and Alex sat across from him. Dean sat down next to her, leaving Castiel with the seat next to Sam. He took it.

Looking around, Alex had to admit she felt underdressed. It was warm in the restaurant, and she took off Dean's jacket, smoothing down her shirt. A woman came to order their drinks, and Dean and Sam both got beer. Alex opted for a Pepsi, and like usual, Castiel got nothing. The waitress, who looked to be in her late forty, with curly blonde hair, nodded, and walked away.

"So, what took you guys so long to catch up?" Dean asked Alex casually. "It usually doesn't take you that long to change."

Alex shrugged. "Dunno. Me and Cas just talked a bit."

"About what?"

Alex let out a faint smile. "Well, it ended up being about what we liked and disliked about each other. Apparently my rambling doesn't bother him."

"Then he'd be the only one," Sam chuckled.

"I bet Cas didn't have anything bad to say about you," Dean added, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

Castiel's eyes fell to the table in front of him, and Alex blushed. "Shut up Winchester."  Alex looked at Sam for several seconds. "What about you, eh?" she finally asked, changing the topic. "There's got to be something you like about me."

Sam thought for a second. "I like that you can sleep a lot. You stop talking when you sleep," he deadpanned.

Dean laughed, and Alex pulled an offended face. "Ooh, harsh," she joked.

The women returned with their drinks. "Are you ready to order?"

"Yeah. I'll have the deluxe cheeseburger." Dean read off the menu.

"I'll just have a salad." Sam said, handing in his menu.

"Sammy, you're never going to grow if you keep eating like that," Alex teased. "I'll have the deluxe cheeseburger too."

"Mm-Hm. And what about you?" the waitress asked Castiel.

"Nothing for me, thank you," Castiel said politely. The waitress nodded, took the menus, and left.

"You know what I like about you Sammy?" Alex continued their conversation from before.

"Hm?" Sam asked after several seconds of silence.

"Hang on, I'm thinking of something." Dean nudged Alex. She laughed. "I'm just kidding. You're cool and tall. If I ever need to reach something on a shelf, I can just climb on your shoulders."

"That's the best you can think of?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"Well, there's also the fact that you're really really smart with research and all. I just have this picture in my head of you researching at a library, and you're just like, running around and grabbing books yelling, 'for research!', and stuff, and then there's Dean who just gives up and starts looking at porn."

That made Sam laugh. "That does sound like Dean." Dean let out an offended sound, but Alex knew he wasn't truly mad.

"So, just to be clear, you two don't like, talk about me and Sammy behind our backs, right?" Dean asked Castiel.

Alex answered for him. "Not all the time. Probably as much as you two talk about me behind my back." She looked up to see Dean and Sam exchange glances. "Oh. Maybe less then." She took a sip of her Pepsi.

Dean turned back to Alex. "Okay. My turn. What do you like about me?" He let out a rakish grin.

Alex laughed. "Honestly?"

"Yeah, honestly."

"Okay." Alex thought for a second. "Probably the fact that you're there for me when I need you." She shot a glance at Sam. "Like when I'm having nightmares. Like, there's been a couple times when I like, woke up screaming or whatever and Sammy here told you to go take care of it." Sam shrugged, and Alex rolled her eyes. "But seriously. Thanks for that."

"Uh, yeah. No problem." Dean seemed slightly taken back by her honest, heart-felt answer. He turned back to Castiel. "So, uh, Cupid, eh?" he asked, changing the topic back to the case. "It's here?"

"Yes. This appears to be its main hunting grounds."

The waitress appeared with their food. She handed Sam his salad, and Alex and Dean their burgers. "Thanks," Alex said. Sam echoed her.

"So, what, you just happen to know he likes the cosmos of this place?" Dean asked. He began to put ketchup on his burger.

"This place is a nexus of human reproduction. It's exactly the kind of garden the Cupid will come to . . . to pollinate," Castiel explained, watching Dean's food. Alex let out a huff of laughter at his analogy.

Dean picked up his burger to take a bite, then decided against it, putting it back down.

"Wait a minute." Sam took notice. "You're not hungry?"

"No." Dean agreed. "What?" he asked after seeing Sam's face. "I'm not hungry, okay?"

"Then you're not going to finish that?" Castiel asked. He took Dean's hamburger. Alex narrowed her eyes in confusion, but took a bite of her burger. Castiel stopped, staring at something over her shoulder. "He's here."

Alex looked around.

"Where?" Sam asked. "I don't see anything."

"There." Castiel pointed.

"You see that same-side-of-the-booth couple over there?" Dean clarified.

"Meet me in the back." Then Castiel was gone. Dean and Sam exchanged looks, then stood up. They starting walking away. Alex stood up as well, grabbing a handful of fries before hurrying after them.

They walked into the back room. "Cas, where is he?" Sam asked, looking around. Alex shoved several fries into her mouth.

"I have him tethered," Castiel promised. " _Zo-da ka-ma mah-ra-na_ ," he chanted, presumably in Enochian. "Manifest yourself."

"So where is he?" Dean asked. Suddenly he let out a cry.

"Here I am!"

Alex looked to see a large, utterly naked man hugging Dean from behind. She looked over at Castiel, eyes wide.

"Help!" Dean breathed out.

"Oh, help is on the way. Yes it is, yes it is," the cupid told him. He put Dean down and walked over to Castiel. He hugged the angel, who let out a shocked noise.

"This is Cupid?" Dean asked.

"Yes." Castiel answered after he had been released. The cupid turned to Alex, who took a step back. "Come 'ere, you." He picked Alex up and hugged her, and she stiffened, trying to think about something else. Anything else. Finally, it was over, and then the cupid turned to Sam. "And look at you, eh?" he told him.

"No." Sam turned around and walked away.

The cupid appeared in front of him, hugging him too. "Yes yes yes yes."

"Is this a fight?" Dean asked, confused. "Are we in a fight?"

"This is . . . their handshake," Castiel explained slowly.

"I don't like it."

"No one likes it."

Cupid turned back to Castiel. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

"Why are you doing this?" Castiel asked.

"Doing what?"

"Your targets -- the one's you marked. They're slaughtering each other."

The cupid stopped, shocked. "What? They are?"

Dean spoke up. "Listen, birthday suit, we know, okay? We know you've been flitting around, popping people with your poison arrows, making them murder each other."

"What we don't know is why?" Castiel added.

"You think that I--well, uh -- I don't know what to say!" the cupid started to cry, turning his back.

"Great." Alex snapped, her uncomfortableness leading to her shortness. "Now you hurt his feelings."

"Should, should somebody maybe . . . go talk to him?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah. That's a good idea." Dean slapped Cas on the shoulder. "Give 'em hell, Cas."

Castiel stumbled forward, glancing back. Dean nudged him on. "Uh," he approached the cupid, "look. We, uh, don't mean to, um, hurt your feelings."

The cupid turned around, hugging Castiel tight. Castiel let out a strangled noise. Alex let out a breath of laughter.

"Love is more than a word for me, you know," the cupid told the angel. "I love love. I _love_ it. And if that's wrong, I don't want to be right."

"Yes, yes. Of course. I . . . I have no idea what you're saying." At that Alex chuckled again.

"I was just on my appointed route! Whatever my targets do after that has nothing to do with me! I was just following orders. Please, brother. Read my mind. Read my mind, you'll see!"

Castiel stared at the cupid for several long seconds. "He's telling the truth," he finally said.

"Jiminy Christmas, thank you!"

"Wait, wait. Y-you said you were just following orders?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Whose orders?"

"Whose?" The cupid laughed. Why, Heaven's, silly. Heaven's."

"Why does Heaven care if Harry meets Sally?" Dean persisted.

"Oh, mostly they don't. You know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies. Oh, like yours."

"What?" Sam stepped closer.

"Oh yeah. The union of John and Mary Winchester -- very big deal upstairs. Top priority arrangement. Mm."

"Are you saying you fixed up our parents?"

"Well, not me, but, yeah. Well, it wasn't easy either. Ooh, they couldn't stand each other at first. But when we were done with them -- perfect couple."

"Perfect?" Dean scoffed.

"Yeah."

"They're dead!"

The cupid's smile faltered. "I'm sorry . . .but the orders were very clear. You two needed to be born. You're parents were just, meant to be." The cupid smiled. " _A match made in heaven_ ," he sung. " _Heaven_."

Dean had had enough. He stepped forward, fists balled and punched the cupid square in the jaw. He turned away, pain on is face, clenching his fist. "Son of a bitch."

The cupid disappeared, and Alex rolled her eyes. "Great. Now look what you did. You scared him away."

"Where is he?" Dean turned back around. "Where'd he go?"

"I believe you upset him," Castiel explained slowly.

"Upset him?!" Dean exclaimed.

"Dean!" Sam snapped, "Enough."

"What?"

"You punched a cupid!"

"I punched a dick."

"Um, are we going to talk about what's been up with you lately or not?"

"Or not." Dean stomped out of the back room. Sam and Alex exchanged a glance, but followed. Castiel disappeared.

 

 **"O** kay. So we know it's not cupid." Dean told she as they sat back down at their table. "Alex. Ideas?"

She shrugged, finding herself a little wary around the hunter. "Dunno. Not even sure if this is one of the cases. Sorry. But if I recognize _anything_ , I'll tell you, 'cause I always do."

Dean let out a small sigh. "I know. Thanks."

 

 **T** hey finished up their meals, then headed back to the hotel. Alex and Dean immediately sat down on the bed, flicking on the tv. After a few minutes of arguing, they decided on a show. _Destination Truth_. Alex decided she liked it.

Sam glanced at the tv. "What are you watching?"

" _Destination Truth_. They investigate weird stuff. Like us. Except they never catch anything and have way more fun," Alex explained. Dean huffed in agreement, and Alex added, "We should go to some caves sometimes. Explore, find aliens."

"Aliens don't exist," Sam reminded her.

"Yeah, well most people would say Zeus doesn't exist either. Yet he does. Probably."

Sam had to admit she had a point, and sat down on the bed next to her. Alex scooted over to give him room. As she did, a new episode started. "Ooh!" Alex exclaimed after a few minutes. "Let's go there!"

"Nope." Dean shook his head. "No way."

"Island of the Dolls?" Sam scoffed.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Don't care what you say. Still creepy."

Sam got up and walked over to the window. "Hello?" he asked, and Alex looked over to see that he was now talking on the phone. "Yeah, Dr. Corman. Uh, have there been any other, unusual, deaths. You know, weird? "There was a pause, and Sam's eyes widened a fraction on an inch "Oh. Okay, yeah." He hung up.

Alex looked over at him. "Anything?"

"Yeah." He met her gaze. "Come on."

"Wait. Seriously? Me?" Alex looked surprised. "Okay." She got up, and Dean did the same.

"Dean, you should stay here." Sam shook his head. "Alex and I have this one covered."

"Oh, well, if you say so." Dean sat back down, although it was obvious he was hurt. "Okay."

 

 **A** lex changed, and then they drove into town, dressed in their nice clothes. Dr. Corman was waiting at the end of the hall near the morgue. "You said you wanted to hear about any other weird ones," he said as they entered the autopsy room.

"Uh, yeah." Alex nodded. She watched the doctor approach a gurney and pull back the sheets. She closed her eyes, letting out a long breath. Of course. Gross. The body was male, and the belly was grossly distended.

"Lester Finch. Pulled his records. Looks like the guy used to weigh four hundred pound or so -- until he got a gastric bypass, which brought down his weight considerably. Then for some reason, last night, he decided to go on a Twinkie binge."

"So, he died from a Twinkie binge?" Sam asked, also slightly disgusted.

"Well, after he blew out the band around his stomach, he filled it up till it burst. When he could no longer swallow, he started jamming the cakes down his gullet with a . . . with a toilet brush, like he was ramrodding a cannon."

Alex felt her stomach twist at the mental image. Why would someone do that? Was he starving? Is this case related? The questions flew around in her mind.

"So what do you make of it?" Sam asked.

"I'd say it was a very peculiar thing to do," the doctor responded, taking a swig out of a flask.

Sam and Alex thanked him, then exited the building. Alex opened the passenger door of the Impala, but Sam didn't do the same. "I'm going to go do a bit of snooping," he told her. "Go on ahead." He tossed her the keys.

"O-okay." Alex took the keys, slightly surprised. She slid across the bench seat and into the driver's spot. "See you later, then. Should I pick you up, or do you want to walk? I can pick you up."

"I'll just walk. It's only five minutes." Sam closed the door, waving good-bye. Alex started the car, and drove away.

She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel, eyes narrowed. What was going on? She ran through the facts again. Two double suicides. One couple ate each other to death. The other two took their lives. Then this man ate himself to death. Who would do that? Who _could_ do that? Alex didn't think that was even possible. He must have been hungry. Those two people must have been hungry. Or insane. Eating each other like that. _Oh_. She almost slammed on the brakes. _Of course_. A broad smile crossed her face. How had she forgotten? It was obvious. These people were starving. Starving for food, love, sex. Obvious, obvious. So obvious now.

_Famine._

She picked up her phone and dialed Dean's number. The line was busy. Alex sighed and hung up. Of course. The horseman. That explained why Cas was hungry too. He never ate unless Alex forced him.

She pulled into the motel parking lot and got out of the car. She knocked on their door, and Dean answered. "Where's Sam?"

"He wanted to do something. He said he'd walk back." Alex entered, shrugging off her coat. Without waiting for a response, she changed back into her jeans. When she went back into the room, Dean was sitting at the kitchen table. "Hey, I know what's going on," she said casually.

At the same time, Sam came bursting through the door. "Demons," he breathed out.

"Wait, demons?" Dean stood up. "What the hell does demons have to do with this anyways?"

"I have no idea."

"Uh, I do." Alex said. "I know what's going on, peoples. Where's Cassie? Castiel?" She looked over at Sam. "What's in the briefcase?"

"Not sure." Sam looked down at it. "But what's going on?"

"Hm." Alex ignored his question. "What's in it? Cassie? Any day now, buddy. I know what we're hunting here." She heard Sam and Dean put the brief case on the bed. Sam reached to open it.

Dean stopped him. "You sure that's a good idea?" he asked.

Sam shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen?" He opened the briefcase, and a white light filled the room. It quickly dissipated.

"The hell was that?" Dean exclaimed, opening his eyes.

"A human soul." Castiel's voice sounded behind them. Alex turned to see the angel, holding a fast food bag and a burger.

"What's going on?" Dean asked Alex. "And why the hell is there a human soul in that case?"

"It's food," Alex said simply. "For a horseman."

"You know?" Castiel tilted his head.

"Yeah. You too?"

"I just figured it out." He looked down at the burger in his hand. "My hunger is a clue, actually."

"Wait? A horseman?"

"Famine." Castiel nodded. "This town is not suffering from love-gone-wrong effect. It's suffering from hunger. And not just food -- sex, starvation, attention, love."

"Well, that explains the puppy-lovers that Cupid shot up."

"Right. The cherub made them crave love, and then Famine came and made them rabid for it." Castiel took another bite of his burger.

"Okay, but what about you?" Dean asked. "I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?"

Castiel seemed a little embarrassed. "It's my vessel: Jimmy. His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect."

"So Famine rolls into town and everybody goes crazy?"

"And everybody's just gonna eat drink, and screw themselves to death?" Sam added.

"Yes. We should stop it." Castiel took another bite of his burger.

"Great idea, Cas." Alex rolled her eyes.

"How did you stop the last horseman you met?" Castiel asked her.

"We cut off its ring," Alex explained. "We should do the same for Famine. For all four of them, actually."

"So Famine has a ring?" Dean glanced at her.

"Yes." Castiel nodded. "We should get going." He glanced down at the last bite of hamburger.

Alex, seeing him do it, took it away, shoving it into her own mouth. "You need to lay off the food, buddy," she mumbled through the food. "The last thing we need is a cubby angel."

Castiel just glared at her.

"What are you, the Hamburgler?" Dean joked dryly.

"I've developed a taste for ground beef," the angel admitted.

"Have you tried to stop?"

"I'm an angel. I can stop anytime I want," Castiel snapped back. Alex let out a disbelieving huff.

Dean didn't seem to believe him either. "Whatever. Sam, let's go."

"I, um . . . I can't. I can't go," Sam breathed. Alex looked over at him, shocked to see he was in the bathroom, sweating, and trying to cool himself off with a damp washcloth.

"Sammy?" she asked worriedly.

"What do you mean?" Dean took a step towards his brother.

"I think it got to me, Dean," Sam struggled to form words. "I think I'm hungry for it . . ."

"Hungry for what?"

"You know." Sam wiped the cloth across his forehead.

"Demon blood?" Dean guessed, concern darkening his countenance. Sam hung his head ashamedly. "You got to be kidding me," he muttered before turning back to Castiel. "You got to get him out of here. You got to beam him to, like, Montana. Anywhere but here."

Castiel shook his head. "It won't work. He's already infected. The hunger is just going to travel with him."

"Well, then what do we do?" Dean looked over at Alex, desperate.

"You go cut the bastard's finger off," Sam answered for her. "But, uh, before you go, you better lock me down -- but good."

Dean looked torn, but finally nodded. He walked over to his bag, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Sam went back into the bathroom, and Alex watched as Dean handcuffed his brother's hands to the sink pipe. Then he stepped back. "Okay, well, hang in there," he told him. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Be careful. And . . . hurry." Sam was beginning to sweat again, and Alex narrowed her eyes.

Dean shut the door, and Castiel pushed the dresser in front of it.

"Let's go." Dean headed towards the door, Castiel following. Alex didn't. When Dean noticed, he glanced back. "You coming?"

Alex hesitated, not wanting to go, but not able to say no. "Okay," she finally nodded.

"She can't go in there, Dean." Castiel turned on the hunter. "It's a miracle that she hasn't been infected already. The last thing we need is for her to do something that could hurt her." He looked over at Dean's brother. "She can watch over Sam."

"But she's the only one who knows what's going on!" Dean insisted.

Alex looked between Dean and Castiel, not sure who to listen to. "I already told you everything I know," she said quietly.

Dean looked down at Alex. Seeing how she didn't protest, he sighed. "Fine. Fine. You stay here."

"O-Okay. I can do that." She let out a smile, and took a small step backwards.

Dean nodded. "Be careful."

"You too." Alex put the handcuff keys Dean had tossed her into her pocket.

Castiel was studying her. "How are you not infected?" he wondered aloud.

Alex blinked. "Uh, don't know. Now get going before I do. Adios."

"Adios." Dean and Castiel left. She walked back over to the dresser, pushing it out of the way. It wasn't as heavy as she had been expecting. She opened the door, walking in.

Sam looked up. "You shouldn't be here," he hissed through the obvious pain.

Alex didn't listen. She grabbed the washcloth off of the sink, wetted it, and knelt down beside the hunter. "Dean and Cas agreed that it was best I stayed." She gently wiped the sweat off of his forehead, trying to cool him down. Then she sat down, her back against the wall. "So do you want me here for moral support, or should I go watch tv in the next room?"

"Uh, here is fine, if you want," Sam said quietly. Alex didn't protest.

 

 **T** hey sat in absolute silence for the next hour, each deeply lost in their own thoughts. Finally, sometime around 5:30, Alex shifted, getting up. "Hey man. Hungry? Thirsty? I'm going to go down the street, you know, maybe grab a bite to eat. Want anything?"

"No thanks." Sam shook his head, shifting as well. "Actually, water would be nice."

"Well, okay." Alex walked out of the bathroom.

"Can -- can you close the door again?" Sam asked. "And the dresser too?"

"Uh, sure." Alex did as he said, sliding the furniture across the floor as well. "See you in a few minutes," she called. Grabbing a jacket and a wad of cash, she hurried down the street. The February air was biting cold, and the sun was beginning to set. Snow still lay on the ground, and Alex pulled the jacket up over her ears. He went down to the gas station at the end of the street, walking in. Warm air blew on her as she passed through the doors, and she closed her eyes in momentary comfort.

She walked down a few isles, casually browsing. She settled for a warm pretzel. She also grabbed a few bottles of water and a bag of chips before checking out. On the bitterly cold walk back, she nibbled on the soft pretzel. It warmed her stomach, which made her happy.

She walked into the motel room and stopped dead. Everything fell from her hands. "Dammit." Two bodies lay on the floor. Blood poured from one's neck, and, upon closer examination, Alex realized the wound had been caused by human teeth. The dresser had been flung aside, and the bathroom was empty. "Dammit," she repeated. She pulled out her phone. "Sam?"

"What?"

"You okay?"

"Leave me alone." Sam sounded distraught, and Alex closed her eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"Biggerson's. It's a restaurant a few miles north. It's where Famine is."

"And how do you know this?"

"Dean."

"Dean." Alex sighed. "Don't do anything stupid. I'll be there in a few minutes." She hurried out the door, locking it behind her.

 

 **S** he caught a cab up to Biggerson's; it was far to cold to walk. She arrived, and felt a painful tug at her gut. It was a need, growing desperately inside of her. She stubbornly pushed it away. Through the windows, she saw Dean and Sam. A man in a wheelchair was between them. Taking a deep breath to control that growing need inside of her, she pushed through the doors. She was quick to recognize Famine, sitting in a wheelchair, skin white and wrinkling. Sam had his back to her, one hand extended. The second she stepped through those doors, the faces of five men standing around Famine glowed golden, and they collapsed, black smoke pouring out of their mouths and pooling on the ground.

"If you don't want them . . . I'll have them." Famine motioned towards his mouth, and the black smoke poured into his mouth. He turned his attention to the young girl. "It's Alex, right? Mm-mmm. Lucifer wants to talk to you."

Alex took a step back. "Great," she forced out.

"Alex," Dean grunted. "Get out before--"

"Before what?" Famine cackled. "Before she's infected? She already is." A thin smile formed across his pale lips. "Acceptance. You just want to belong." He let out a weak chuckle. "You'll do anything they ask, won't you, sweetheart?"

Sam angrily extended his hand towards Famine, who looked back at him, letting out a half-starved laugh. "I'm a Horseman, Sam. You're power doesn't work on me."

"You're right," Sam hissed. "But it will work on them." His gaze shifted, and Famine's smile faded. Black smoke poured from his stomach, and the Horseman jerked several times, letting out agonizing cries. He went limp, collapsing in his wheelchair. Dean looked at Sam, shock across his face. Castiel stood up, and Alex finally noticed him. The angel's face and hands were covered with meat, and Alex's lips twitched downwards in a frown. "Well? What are you waiting for?" Sam snapped, trembling with strain. "Get the damn ring."

Dean did as he said. Sam stumbled, then sat down at the bar. Castiel quickly approached. "Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Of course." Alex promised shakily.

"Let's go." Dean's voice was tense. No one argued.

Sam and Dean hurried off to the Impala. Alex followed more closely, Castiel by her side. "I don't remember," Alex finally whispered. "Why wasn't Dean infected? He was right there."

There was a moment of silence before the angel responded. "Famine . . . he said Dean wasn't hungry because he was dead inside."

Alex sighed, pulling her cold hands up into her warm jacket. "I, uh . . . " she sighed again, "unfortunately, that's not hard to believe." When she looked over, Castiel was gone. Alex slid into the backseat.

They wordlessly drove back to the motel, got their stuff, and, after wiping down every surface, left without checking out. Then they drove to Bobby's.

 

 **T** he first thing Dean did when they got to the Singer Salvage Yard was put Sam into the panic room. Alex followed behind as Dean roughly locked the door behind him. Castiel appeared. Dean pressed his forehead against the door, finally letting his distress show.

"Let me out!' Sam yelled, pounding on the door. "Dean! Please, let me out of here!"

"That's not him in there," Castiel said quietly. "Not really."

"I know."

"Dean, Sam just needs to get it out of his system," the angel continued. "Then he'll be--"

"Listen. I just, uh, I just need to get some air." Dean stumbled away and up the stairs, leaving Castiel and Alex alone. Alex started after him, then stopped, letting her head fall.

"Are you okay?" Castiel asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Alex raised her head. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Castiel turned to face her, his blue eyes locking with hers. "I heard what Famine said. Lucifer wants to talk with you."

Alex shrugged. "So? At least he doesn't want to kill me, hmm? That'd be worse."

Castiel didn't buy into her joke. "This isn't funny, Alex. He's dangerous, and he will hurt you unless you tell him what he wants to hear."

"Then I'll just tell him what he wants to hear." Alex let out a sigh. "Cas, don't worry about me. He can't hurt me, okay? Sam and Dean won't let him."

"Neither will I," the angel swore.

Warmth spread through Alex, and she smiled. "Thank you."

Castiel looked down. "Famine said your desire was acceptance."

Alex blushed deeply. "So?"

"You don't feel accepted here. Not really."

"I don't _belong_ here, Castiel. You can't blame me."

Castiel's blue eyes flashed with some rarely seen emotion. "That's not true, Alex. You do belong. You belong here. With the Winchester. And . . . and with me."

Alex blushed, eyes dropping to the ground embarrassedly. Unable to think of a response, she stared at her shoes for several long seconds. "Thanks Cas," she finally got out. When she looked up, he was gone. 


	42. Dean Men Don't Wear Plaid

**"H** ey."

Alex looked over at Sam, sitting in the front seat. "What?"

"Found a new case." He turned his laptop so she could see it. "Sioux Falls. A man witnessed a murder."

"So?" It was nine days after they had taken Famine's ring. Nine days hunting down a nest of vampires that ended up being a total bust. "That means nothing to us."

"So get this. The man, Wells, claims he got a good look at the murder. Recognized him too; said it was Clay Thompson. Only problem? Clay's been dead five years."

Alex recoiled. "Is this going to be a zombie case? I hate zombies."

The door opened. "Zombies?"

"Sam found a case," Alex explained. "A man was killed by a dead man."

"Sounds like fun. Where?" Dean slid into the driver's seat.

"Sioux Falls," Sam repeated.

"Oh, good," Dean nodded. "Is it near Bobby's? We should check on him."

"Uh, yeah." Sam looked at the article again.

"Awesome." Dean nodded. "Sioux Falls it is." They peeled out of the gas station parking lot.

 

 **I** t was a four hour drive. At one point Sam and Dean stopped, changing into their suits and ties. Sam hung up his phone. "We're to meet Mr. Wells at the Philip Avenue Diner."

"Ooh. I love that place." Alex leaned back in her seat, adjusting her necklace beneath her shirt.

 

**February 27th, 2010**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**T** hey pulled into Sioux Falls, and Dean parked the car outside of the diner. Sam dialed Bobby's number again. It rang, but no one answered. "Bobby, when you get this message, call, okay?" Sam said. Then he hung up. Sighing, he got out of the car.

Dean followed. "Is he still not home? How far can he get in that chair?" They entered the diner, and Alex followed at a distance.

"So what do we do?" Sam asked quietly.

"Well . . . I guess we just do it ourselves," Dean shrugged. The diner wasn't very crowded, and a man sat at the far booth. He and Sam sat down opposite of the man. "Mr. Wells? Agents Phillip and Coulson. FBI."

Mr. Wells studied them, then nodded.

"You said you witnessed a murder. Is that right Mr. Wells?" Dean addressed the unkept-looking man. "Why don't you tell us what you saw in your own words."

"Call me Digger." The man looked suspiciously over at Alex. She flashed her FBI badge just for good measure before taking a seat on the bar stool across from them.

"Digger? Who gave you that name?" Dean drew Digger's attention back to him.

"I did."

"You gave yourself your own nickname?" Dean glanced at Sam. "You can't do that."

"Who died and made you queen?" Digger shot back.

"Okay," Sam broke the tension. "Um, why don't you just tell us what you saw."

"I saw Clay Thompson climb in Benny Sutton's trailer through the window. Couple of minutes later, Clay comes out, and Benny's dead."

"And uh," Dean held up the photo of Clay he had pulled out of the papers, "you're sure this is the guy?"

"Well, he was all covered in mud, but yeah, that's Clay."

"And you are aware Clay Thompson died five years ago?" Dean persisted.

"Yep."

"And you're positive this is the guy?"

"Are you calling me a liar?" Digger snapped.

Alex shifted. She got off of the bar stool and walked into the bathroom.

 

 **A** minutes later, Alex walked out of the restroom and back into the restaurant. Then she stopped cold. "Damn."

Sam and Dean were sitting in the booth, talking to Sheriff Mills. "FBI, huh?" She stopped, looking up at Alex. "Alex?"

Sam and Dean glanced back at her.

"Damn," she repeated, reluctantly walking forward.

Sheriff Mills turned back to Sam and Dean. "So, uh, you know Bobby Singer?" Sam stammered out, shooting a glance at Alex.

"That's a . . . fun coincidence," Dean added.

"Here's what I know about Bobby Singer. He's a menace around here, ass-full of drunk-and-disorderly and mail fraud. You understanding me?"

Alex let out a breath of offense at her harsh words.

The sheriff turned to Alex. "And something tells me you're in on this too. Now listen to me. I don't want to see a young girl like you getting into trouble because of them. You hear me?"

"Yes ma'am," Alex said quietly.

"I think we can all agree that you've made yourself perfectly clear, yes," Dean agreed.

"So, whatever the three of you are planning, it ends here. Now." The Sheriff's eyes flickered from face to face. "Ten-four on that, agents?"

"Yeah." Sam and Dean nodded.

"Good. And stay out of trouble," she told Alex, who nodded as well. "It's bad enough that you have to live with that Bobby. I've seen the people that head up his way. You shouldn't be hanging around with people like them. You understand?" When Alex nodded again, she left the restaurant.

"You're Bobby's girl?" Digger asked her.

Alex sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "Yeah, that's me."

Sam and Dean got up and left. Alex followed.

"That sheriff chewed you out, girl," Dean shook his head in disbelief, unlocking the Impala.

"Whatever." Alex glanced around to see the sheriff watching them from across the street. When Alex got into the back seat, she saw her frown.

"You know her?"

"I guess. She's been the sheriff for a while now. She's not happy that I've been living with Bobby and all. Oh well."

Dean drove off, and Alex sighed again.

 

 **T** hey drove down to the Singer Salvage Yard. Dean parked the Impala, and they walked up to the back door. Sam and Dean had both changed at a gas station on the ride over, and were now wearing their casual clothes. Dean knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" they heard Bobby yell.

"Dean and Sam," Dean answered.

"And Alex!" Alex added.

After a few seconds, the door opened, and Alex saw Bobby there in his wheelchair. "Hey girl." He smiled up her.

"Hey Bobby." Alex let Sam and Dean enter first, then followed. Bobby started rolling into through the study.

"Do you know how many times we called?" Dean snapped. "Where have you been?"

"Playing murderball," Bobby rolled his eyes.

Dean stopped. "What's that smell?" He asked. Alex sniffed the air as well. "Is that soap? Have you been cleaning?"

"What are you, my mother? Bite me!" Bobby was starting to get defensive, and Alex narrowed her eyes.

"Bobby, seriously," Sam cut in.

"I've been working. You know, trying to find a way to stop the devil?"

"Find anything?"

"What do you think?"

"Bobby, it's just . . ." Sam glanced over at Dean, "there's a case five miles from your house."

"What the, the Benny Sutton thing?" Bobby looked over at Alex. "That's what's this is about?"

Alex shrugged. "Yeah."

"You know about this?" Dean asked angrily.

"Hell yes. I've checked into it already. There's nothing here."

"Except a witness who saw dead guy commit murder," Sam snapped.

"What witness? Digger Wells?"

"So?"

"So he's a drunk!"

"Well, what about the lightning storms? They look like omens."

"Except in February in South Dakota in storm season. Look, guys, I thought there was something here too. But sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."

"So then who killed Sutton?" Alex asked.

Bobby shrugged. "Take your pick. This Benny Sutton guy was a grad A son of a bitch. There's a list of the living a year long who wouldn't mind putting a cap in his ass."

"So, you're telling us . . . nothing?" Dean looked down at Alex.

Bobby shook his head. "Sorry. Looks like you wasted a tank of gas on this one, boys."

"Great," Dean muttered.

 

 **T** hey spent several more hours there until Dean decided it was time to head out. The sky was already dark, not that they cared. After saying their goodbyes, they drove away. They had only been driving for ten minutes when Dean stopped the car.

"What?" Alex perked up, leaning over the bench seat.

"Isn't that the graveyard Thompson was buried at?" Dean asked.

"St. Anthony's?" Sam glanced back to see the cemetery entrance.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "That was St. Anthony's."

"Yeah? So what? Bobby said he already checked it out."

"And?" Dean looked over at Sam. "What? Bobby's never been wrong? Come on. We'll take a peak, then we'll hit the road again. It can't hurt."

Alex agreed, and Dean pulled the car off of the road. He handed out flashlights, and took a shovel for himself and Sam. Quickly glancing up and down the road, he led them into the cemetery.

Alex shone her flashlight over the headstones, quietly stepping through the long grass.

"Hey." Sam stopped. Alex walked over to him. He was standing by a grave. _Clay Thompson._

"Does this dirt look fresh to you?" Dean asked.

Alex looked down. He was right. The dirt had been recently overturned. Both of the brothers unfolded their shovels, and immediately began to dig.

 

 **I** t took almost an hour of them trading off, but soon Sam hit wood. Alex jumped out of the hole, sitting on the edge of the grave. Sam cleared away the rest of the dirt. Right away, Alex noticed the front of the wooden coffin was torn to splinters. That was a bad sign, and she voiced her opinion.

Sam didn't answer, but opened the top half of the coffin. It was empty.

Alex cursed. "Shit."

"Okay, new plan." Dean shook his head in confusion. "First, let's get this place cleaned up, huh?"

Sam agreed, closing the coffin and jumping out of the hole. As they filled it in, Dean continued, "Obviously Clay is topside. We should check out his place. Sammy?"

"Clay had a wife and kids," Sam offered. "I have their address in the car."

"Okay." Dean dropped his shovel, patting down the dirt with his foot. "Let's go."

 

 **T** en minutes later they pulled up next to a darkened house in Sioux Falls. Sam and Dean gabbed their flashlights and got out. Alex started to follow, but Dean stopped her. "Sorry girl. You stay out here, keep an eye out, okay?" He took a walkie-talkie from the glovebox, leaving the other for her.

"It's because I'm clumsy," Alex sighed.

"Basically." Dean and Sam walked across the street. Sam picked the lock, and they entered. Alex sighed, crawling into the front seat. She looked up and down the street, waiting.

 

 **A** few minutes later, three police cars came speeding around the bend. Alex slumped down in her seat, hoping for them to pass. They didn't. Alex reached for the walk-talkie as the cops got out. "Dean?" she asked into it. There was a knock on the window, and Alex's heart sunk as she recognized Sheriff Mills.  
"Dean?" she asked into it again.

The sheriff opened the car door and pulled her out. The walkie-talkie fell to the car floor. "Mind explaining what you're doing here?" she asked coldly.

"Oh, not much," Alex shrugged. "What about you?"

"We got a 9-1-1 call from that house." Sheriff Mills pointed the Clay Thompson's house.

"Oh." Alex blinked. "That's weird. I haven't seen anything."

"Okay. Why don't you come with me." The sheriff started walking her towards one of the cop cars. The door to the house opened, and a man walked out, followed by Sam and Dean. They were deep in conversation, but stopped. Their eyes flickered around, finally coming to rest on Sheriff Mills and Alex.

She smiled apologetically before she was roughly shoved against the car, her hands forced behind her back. "Ow," she complained. She was forced into the police car, and a minute later Sam and Dean joined her.

"Thanks for the warning," Dean grumbled.

"I started to warn you," Alex snapped back. "But the sheriff here hauled my ass over here before I could say anything."

"Stay quiet back there." Sheriff Mills got behind the wheel. They fell silent for the rest of the ride.

 

 **T** hey arrived at the Sioux Falls Police Station within the next several minutes. They were put in a holding cell, and Dean called Bobby. He returned, and sat down on the bench. "So what?" he finally asked after sitting silently for several minutes. "The sheriff's on the take?"

"Yea-- No." Sam shook his head. "You think the zombies are paying her off?" He glanced out the cell, then did a double take. "Hey."

Alex followed his gaze. The sheriff and Bobby were talking. Jody Mills' arms were crossed, and she was frowning.

"So what?" Dean scoffed. "Now they're friends?"

Sheriff Mills approached, unlocking the cell door. "You're free to go," she told them. "But next time, I won't be so lenient, understand?"

"Crystal clear," Dean nodded. He followed Sam out.

"Alex." Mills put her hand on her shoulder. "You better stop this right now. I don't want to see you back here, you understand?"

"Yeah," Alex nodded, "I get it." She walked over to where Sam and Dean were pushing Bobby out through the door. The air was cold, and she pulled her jacket tighter around her.

Sam shifted his grip on the wheelchair handle. "Bobby, I thought the sheriff hated you."

"She did, until about five days ago."

"Well, what happened five days ago?" Dean looked over at at Alex. She shrugged.

"The dead started rising all over town." Bobby didn't glance back at Dean.

"So you knew about this?"

"Yep."

Dean huffed. "I think what Sam meant to say was, 'so you lied to us?'"

"Look, I just told you there was nothing here, and there ain't. Not for you."

"There are zombies here," Dean snapped.

"There are zombies, and there are zombies. Come with me." Bobby started rolling towards the Impala.

Dean helped Bobby into the car, and they drove back to Bobby's house. Dean and Sam tried to talk to him, but he refused to answer.

 

 **"F** or that last time," Dean said, following Bobby into his house "you want to tell us what the hell this is all about?" He trailed off as a woman entered into the study.

"Oh hey." She stopped. "I didn't realize you were bringing company." Her face looked familiar, but Alex couldn't place it.

"It's four a.m. babe," Bobby said, his voice growing gentle. "You didn't need to cook."

Alex suddenly recognized the woman. Karen Singer, Bobby's dead wife. It was her that was in all of those pictures in the attic. How was she here?

"Oh please." Karen's voice broke her thoughts. "I'll get some more plates." She disappeared into the kitchen.

"Who was that?" Dean whispered as soon as she was out of earshot.

"Karen. My wife." Bobby turned back to them.

"Your new wife?"

"My dead wife."

"Oh crap." Alex stopped dead. "I remember this."

Sam and Dean turned back to look at her. "Really? What do we do?"

"Well _I_ am going to get the hell out of Dodge. I don't do zombies, Dean." Alex took a step back. "I'll just take an all-expenses-paid-by-me trip to all points nowhere-near-here." She stepped back again, slowly making her way towards the door. "You two hang tight, okay? You don't mind the whole zombie thing, right?"

"She's not a zombie," Bobby snapped, wheeling them all back into the study. He closed the sliding door. "Dammit, Alex, she's not. Look at her. Don't you think I tested her?"

"I know, Bobby." Alex's heart twisted in pain at the sight of the hunter. "And I am so, so sorry. But she'll turn. They all will. It-It, uh, starts with some old woman. The first to come up, I believe. Then they all snap. I'm sorry, but I've got to go."

"Hey. Hey!" Dean stopped her as she walked away. "Face your fears, girl. That's the only way to conquer them."

"She's not a zombie," Bobby persisted. "She can't be. I cremated her!"

Dean and Sam froze, but Alex just shook her head. "Zombies aren't real, Dean. Something rose these people. And to be completely honest, the person behind all of this is starting to scare almost as much as the zombies. He's looking for me, and I've got to run." Alex knew it wasn't a total lie; Lucifer was starting to scare her. But overall, she wanted to get away from the walking dead.

Dean let go of her shoulder, letting his arm drop to his side. "Uh, okay," he relented. "Just keep your phone close, you hear? And if you remember anything else, call."

"Will do. Stay safe." Alex quickly walked towards the back door, heart racing. She rifled through several keys before pulling out the keys to her Chevelle. The Impala's trunk was unlocked, and she grabbed her duffle bag. Getting into her own car, she quickly drove down the road and out of the town.

 

 **T** en or so miles out, she began looking for a motel. Finding one, she checked in, using one of the credit cards that went with her fake ID. It was easy enough, and she checked in under the name of Jen Rockford in case Sam or Dean couldn't contact her.

Arriving at her room, she started watching tv, but felt her eyes beginning to close, and she changed into sweatpants. She crawled back under the covers, and fell asleep.

 

 **S** he opened her eyes. She was still in the darkened motel room, but something felt different. She reached for the light switch, but it didn't work. She tried again, frowning. "Don't turn on the light," a familiar voice whined.

Alex sat up, pulling her gun out from under the pillow. In one swift motion she flicked off the safety and cocked it, aiming it at the voice.

"Now, there's no need for that," Lucifer said. He stood up, hands held out non-threateningly. "Alex -- it's Alex, right? I just want to talk."

"So I've heard." Alex cleared her gun and put it back under the pillow. "Well? I'm listening." She crossed her legs. "Shoot."

Lucifer let out a quiet laugh. "You don't seem very afraid."

"This is a dream, isn't it?" Alex slightly cocked her head to one side. "You can't track me down; I'm hidden from all angels."

"Very smart." Lucifer crossed the room and sat down on the bed across from her. "But you weren't afraid of me in Carthage either. Sam and Dean were terrified; but not you. Why?"

"Why?" Alex chuckled. "Why should I be afraid of you? 'Daddy was mean to me and now I'm going to destroy the world.' You're nothing more than a toddler having a temper tantrum."

Anger flared in the archangel's eyes. "Do you know why I fell?"

"Yes. You loved God, he created little hairless apes, Michael beat you down -- save the sob story." Alex rolled her eyes.

"Your arrogance is getting irritating," Lucifer warned her, leaning forward. "Now tell me. How do you know about me?"

Alex leaned forward as well, her face only inches from his. "I don't have to tell you squat," she whispered. "And if I didn't actually like you to some small degree, I would have told the Winchesters just how to kill you. For real this time."

"I am an archangel. Don't you _dare_ threaten me," Lucifer hissed, blue eyes blazing. "In fact, if I didn't think that you were somewhat useful, you would be dead. There is nothing keeping you alive right now except for my ever-amazing mercy."

"And the fact that I know something you don't. _That's_ what's keeping me alive. And I have no intention of sharing it. Not to you, and definitely not to Michael." She let out a breath, leaning back. "I don't feel like you understand how nice I am being."

"Oh?" Lucifer cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"I'm telling you flat out that I'm not going to tell you what I know. Yet I could have just as easily lied to you."

The devil laughed. "You can't lie to me."

"Why not? In this conversation alone, I've lied . . . three times already. How many of those have you cottoned on to?"

Lucifer's eyes darkened in confusion. He stood up and walked over to the far room. "I like your spirit," he told her. "There are very few humans like you. I don't think I'm going to kill you. _Unless_ you get in my way, you hear?" He glanced back at her. "Hm." He picked something up off of the table. "The Scottish Motel, eh? I hope you don't mind if I visit you."

Alex's breath caught in her throat, but she refused to show her fear. "I'd rather you not," she retorted, steadying her voice. _Crap._

The archangel chuckled. "I'll think about it." Then he was gone, and Alex woke up.

 

 **T** he motel room was still dark. Alex sat up, heart beating fast. "Castiel?" she called. "Cas?" Louder this time. "Castiel!"

"What's wrong?" Castiel appeared in the middle of the room.

Alex jumped up and ran over to him, pulling him into a hug.

"Is everything okay?" the angel asked, eyes dark with worry.

"I-I had a dream," Alex began, taking deep breaths to calm herself. "Lucifer was in my head. I, I think it was real. I don't know how he found me."

She felt Castiel stiffen. "It's okay," he said slowly. "I'm here. I won't let him hurt you."

Alex sighed. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You should sleep," the angel told her. "You haven't slept in several days."

Alex started to protest, but thought better of it. The truth was, she felt like she hadn't been sleeping for the past few hours, and was still very, very tired.

She walked back over to the bed and crawled in. However, as soon as she closed her eyes, panic started to build up. She wished Dean was there; whenever she was scared he would be right next to her in the bed, keeping her safe. But now it was just her. She rolled onto her stomach, making out Castiel's form in the dim light.

At the sound of her moving, he turned his head. "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep," Alex admitted quietly. "I'm scared."

Castiel hesitated, then approached, standing by the bedside. Alex scooted over to make room. He sat down on the edge, then carefully stretched out, leaning against the headboard. Alex pressed her back into his side, finding comfort in his solidness. He let out a small sigh, and began whispering something in Enochian. It soothed Alex, and she soon fell asleep.

 

 **W** hen she woke up, Castiel was gone. She stretched, looking around. The room was empty. If Lucifer had showed up, he hadn't made his presence known. Looking at the clock, she noticed it was almost eight. She considered calling Dean, but if he hadn't called her, he probably was fine. She decided it was time for a shower. She pulled of her tank top, tracing her left side. The scar from the werewolf was completely gone. She ran a light finger down her left leg, studying the pale white line that was all that was left from that horrifying experience. With a small sigh, she walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

 

 **S** he stepped back out ten minutes later, rifling around in her bag for a clean shirt. There was a flutter of wings, and she glanced up. "Oh. Hey Cas."

"Hello." Castiel adverted his gaze.

Alex smiled at his embarrassment, but pulled her shirt on over her tank top. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Aww. Thanks Cassie. But I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Truthfully, I'm more terrified of Zachariah and Michael than I am of Lucifer."

Castiel narrowed his eyes in confusion, but said nothing. Then he was gone.

"Cas?" Alex asked. "Uh, did I hurt your feelings? Sorry." He didn't reappear, and Alex sighed. "Whatever."

 

 **T** he day passed. Dean called her late in the afternoon to tell her that the first one to come up, who was indeed an old woman, had turned: eaten out her husband's guts. He figured they'd wrap up this case within the next day or two. They passed back and forth a few idle words, then hung up.

Alex was sitting around when there was a knock on the door. Confused, she took her gun, cocked it, and walked over to the door. She unlatched it, and swung it open. Nothing. She narrowed her eyes, looking around. Then she closed it, locking it tight. She turned around.

"Hello."

Alex jumped, raising her gun.

"Again with the gun," Lucifer sighed. He was sitting on the bed, legs crossed. "There's no need for that, you know."

"So I've heard," Alex growled. She began to have a strange sense of deja vu, and shook her head crossly. "What do you want? Wasn't our little talk last night enough?"

Lucifer let out a small laugh. "You never cease to amaze me, Alex. Don't I scare you at all?"

"Not really," Alex lied. "What's there to be scared of?" She decided to play for his favor. "Now, if Michael was here, I'd be scared."

"Oh?" Lucifer tipped his head to one side. "And why is that?"

"Michael wouldn't hesitate to hurt me if he knew I knew the stuff I did." Alex cleared her gun and wandered over, sitting on the bed. "But you won't. I trust you enough to know you won't hurt me. You won't lie to me, and as long as we're on good terms, I won't lie to you."

Lucifer nodded, an emotion flickering in his ice blue eyes. "Fair enough. I assume you know I don't lie."

"You've never had to," Alex finished. "Yeah, I've heard." She blinked, hoping she was gaining his trust.

"But you know why I'm here?"

"Haven't the slightest."

"I want answers. And you seem like just the person who can give them to me."

"I do, do I?" Alex cocked an eyebrow. "Well, no promises. I'm afraid I know very little about what it is you are after."

"Hm. I suppose we will see." A small smile formed across the archangel's lips. He looked around, confusion forming on his face. "Where are Sam and Dean?"

"Sioux Falls. Dealing with a little zombie problem. Sound familiar? I'm sure Death had a good part in that, eh?"

"You know."

"Yes, I do." Alex crossed her arms. "And I don't do zombies. Now, wouldn't it be smart to get out of her before Cassie gets back, hmm?"

"You think he can stop me?"

"I think he'll try."

"Yes, he probably will." Lucifer stood up. "He is unusually protective of you."

"Good to know. Door's that way." Alex stood up as well. "Feel free to get out." She stood up and walked over to the fridge. She opened it, looking for something to drink, but knowing there was nothing.

"I hope you didn't think you could get rid of me this easily," Lucifer's voice sounded near her ear. Alex instinctively lashed out. The archangel let out a low growl and roughly pinned her against the wall. "Ow. Don't do that."

"Sorry," Alex apologized in her most sarcastic tone. "Instinct."

He let her go, roughly shoving her towards the bed. "Sit." She did. "Now I came here for answers, and you're going to give them to me."

"Sure I am," Alex huffed.

"Yes, you are. Now. What do you know?"

"I know a lot." Alex glared defiantly up at him. "To what exactly are you referring to?"

"Don't play games with me," Lucifer growled. "What do you know about me?"

"You? You're Lucifer. The archangel. Cast out of heaven, twisted Lilith into the first demon, and because of that Michael threw you in the cage. You popped out when sixty-six of the seals were broken. Who designed that cage anyways, because it's terribly designed. You only have to break any sixty-six of six hundred plus seals to free the devil? Sounds like a recipe for disaster--"

Lucifer cut her off with a low growl. "That's not what I'm talking about."

"Then be more specific!" Alex hissed.

There was a flutter of wings, and Alex turned. She let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Castiel." Lucifer acknowledged the angel. "How nice of you to join us, brother."

"Get away from her," Castiel snarled, taking a menacing step forward.

Lucifer just laughed. "You are in no state to threaten me."

"I said, 'get away'." Something glinted in his right hand; an angel blade. 

However, Lucifer only cocked his head to one side. "Are you this protective of all of your humans, brother?"

Castiel didn't reply, but tightened his grip on his weapon.

Lucifer turned to Alex. "Until we meet again," he said politely, giving a slight dip of his head. Then he was gone.

Castiel turned to Alex, anger still blazing in his eyes. "Why didn't you call for me?" he asked, voice tense.

Alex shook her head. "I didn't want you to get involved. He could hurt you--"

"He could hurt you!" Castiel snapped.

"I was handling it!"

"Dammit Alex! How do you think I would feel if he hurt you? Think! How could I live knowing I could have saved you?"

Alex didn't respond. She lowered her head, studying the ground.

Castiel sighed. "I'm sorry."

 

 **S** he didn't sleep much that night. Dean called around four, telling her they had taken care of the zombie problem. Alex promised that she be back in the morning. Castiel had stood in the corner of the room the entire time, refusing to let her leave his sight.

 

 **T** he next day, she drove back to Bobby's. Castiel had refused to leave, and now sat in the front seat. Alex adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. "You don't have to stay," she finally said. "The only reason Lucifer found me was because he found his way into my dreams and saw what motel I was at." She sighed. "I won't make that mistake again. Plus, Sam and Dean will always be there and--"

"I understand." Castiel cut her off. "You don't have to keep talking."

Alex nodded. "Sorry."

Castiel turned to look at her. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

Alex quickly backtracked. "No, I mean, not like that. It's not that I don't like being with you, it's just . . . you don't have to stay anymore." She turned the car into the Salvage Yard. "I mean . . ." She looked back over at Cas, then stopped. He was gone. Alex sighed.

 

 **S** he found the three of them in the back, some sort of funeral pyre burning in front of them. Alex quickly deduced it was Karen Singer. She briefly closed her eyes before she walked over to them. "Hey."

"Hey." Dean turned to her. "Everything okay?"

"No." Alex shook her head.

"Zombies?"

"Worse. The devil."

At this, everyone turned to look at her. "As in, Lucifer?"

"Yeah. You know of any other devils?" Alex snapped. "Let's just get the hell out of here, okay?"

"He's here?" Sam glanced around nervously.

"Sort of. He was ten minutes out at the motel I was staying at, but Cas chased him away. Still guys, we need to run."


	43. Dark Side of the Moon

**March 1st, 2010**

**Blair, Nebraska**

**A** nd run they did. They got into the car and they drove. After the first day, they drove with much less direction and intensity. Around lunch, they pulled into a small motel a few miles away from the main highway. Dean informed them they'd be staying there for the next few days, to Alex unpacked, making herself comfortable. 

"Can we do something?" she asked, sitting up on the bed. She looked at Sam and Dean who were standing there, arms crossed. She rolled her eyes, falling back on the bed. "What?" 

"You're going to have to tell us what happened with you and Lucifer sometime." 

"No, I won't." Alex shook her head, sitting back up. "It was nothing, okay?" 

"Fine. Then tell us." 

Alex sighed. They'd been asking her about this for the past day. "Fine. He came to me in a dream. I knew he couldn't hurt me because it was a dream, so we talked. He saw the little card thing that said what motel I was staying at. He showed up the next day, I told him to go screw himself. Then Cas showed up and chased him off. End of story." She shrugged and fell back on the bed. 

She heard them whispering, and knew they were talking about her, but she didn't care. "Can we go to the mall now?" 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine, princess. Come on." He picked up his keys. "Sammy, you coming?" 

"No thanks." Sam shook his head. "I'll start looking for some cases or something." He added jokingly, "Whatever to get away from Pip." 

Alex rolled her eyes. "Whatever Samsquatch." She walked to the door. "Let's roll, Dean-o." 

 

 **T** hat night, Alex woke up shaking. Her breathing was shaking, and her stomach churned uneasily. Nightmarish images flashed through her mind, and she threw back the covers, rushing into the bathroom. She retched into the toilet, but nothing came up. She forced herself to turn off the bathroom lights and walk back into the dark room. She lay back down, shaking uncontrollably. 

"Dean," Sam muttered, shoving his brother awake. "Alex had a nightmare." 

Dean woke. "You okay, Pip?" he asked. 

Alex didn't reply, her breathing still ragged. Dean groaned and staggered over to her, collapsing in the bed next to her. "Oh my God, you're shaking." Dean placed a hand over her forehead. "You feeling okay?" 

"Cold," Alex shivered. 

Dean tossed back the covers, sliding in next to her. "Come here." He pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist. Alex immediately relaxed. 

Dean started humming quietly, and Alex rolled her eyes. "That's Metallica," she whispered.

"Mm-hmm."

 

 **A** ll three slept well into the morning. Alex woke up when she heard voices. She didn't recognize them, which made her curious. "Looking for this?" one said. Something was tossed to the ground. 

Dean, who was still laying beside her, sat up. "Morning." 

Alex slowly sat up as well. Two men stood in their room, black ski masks covering their faces. Of course, that wasn't the first thing Alex noticed. Actually, first she saw the guns, pointed at them and Sam, who was already awake. 

"Shut up," the first man growled. "Hands where I can see them." 

Alex and Dean did what he said. Alex studied the two of them. They looked familiar. "Do I know you?" she asked, voice surprisingly stead considering the circumstances.

The gun swung towards her chest. "Shut up." 

"Wait a minute." Dean narrowed his eyes. "Is that you, Roy? It is, isn't it." He turned to the second man. "Which makes you Walt." 

Roy and Walt exchanged a glance, and Walt took of his mask. "It doesn't matter," he promised.

"Walt?" Alex shook her head in confusion. "What's going on?" 

Walt didn't answer. "You think you can flip the switch on the Apocalypse and just walk away, Sam?" 

"Who told you that?" Sam asked, shocked. 

"We ain't the only hunters after you." He pumped his shotgun. "See you in the next life." 

Sam looked over at Alex and Dean, petrified. "Hear me out," he begged. "I can explain, okay? Please!" 

Walt shook his head, then he fired. "No!" Alex screamed. Sam was thrown backwards, shirt torn to shreds. Blood spattered everywhere. "No!" she whispered. "The hell?" 

"Stay the hell down," Roy warned Dean, who had jumped up to reach his brother. Dean sat back down, staring blankly at his brother's corpse. 

"Kill 'em," Walt instructed. 

Roy hesitated. "Killing Sam was right," he began, "But Dean and Alex . . ?" 

"He knows us and we just snuffed his brother, you idiot. You want to spend the rest of your life knowing Dean Winchester's on your ass? 'Cause I don't. Shoot 'em." 

Dean turned to Roy. "Go ahead, Roy, do it" he challenged. "But I'm warning you, when I come back, I'm going to be pissed. C'mon! Let's get this show on the road!" His eyes burned with anger. 

"Come on already," Walt grumbled. He shot Dean. 

Alex flinched away as Dean flew back on the bed, chest ripped to shreds. Blood splattered. He shuddered once, then was still. Alex stared blankly at the two bodies, mind whirling. She turned back to Roy and Walt. "What the freakin' hell?" She started to stand up, but Walt raised his gun. She sat back down. "Are you going to kill me too? And you know they'll come back," she warned. "The angels need them to be alive, and when they're back? They'll be pissed."

"Walt," Roy began. 

"What?" 

"I mean, I get why we had to kill the Winchesters and all, but this is Bobby's girl--" 

"She's one of them, Roy. Look at her. She's been sleeping with Dean, for God's sake--" 

"I have not," Alex snapped. "Why the hell would you think --" She cut herself off when Walt spun the gun back to her. 

"Dude, Bobby's going to kill us if he finds out we killed her." 

"How do you think he's going to feel when he finds out we killed them?" Walt motioned to Sam and Dean's bodies. "Everyone knows they're like his sons. If we don't kill her, she'll tell him it was us." 

Alex started to panic. While they were talking, she silently came up with a plan. "Castiel!" she suddenly said. "Quickwater Motel, Room 15. Ohio. Mayday, Cas! They've got guns--" She was silenced as the gun was fired. Buckshot ripped through her chest, throwing her backwards. Pain shot up her spine and into her brain, and she saw flashes of color. Then they faded. 

 

 **I** t took Alex a few seconds to realize she was still conscious. Not dead. Then again, not good either. She vaguely heard a flutter of wings. "Alex?" Castiel appeared beside her bed. She heard Roy and Walt utter exclamations of surprise, and Castiel turned to them. He took a menacing step towards them, and they fled. 

Alex painfully moved her hand. It was all she could do. Castiel turned back to her. "You're still alive," he whispered. "Thank God." He took her hand, placing his other gingerly on her chest. Something warm pushed through the pain, but it didn't help. Alex screwed her eyes shut. Castiel pulled back. "I can't heal you," he whispered. "I'll go get someone who can. Hold on." 

"Sam . . . and Dean . . ." Alex wheezed out. "Help . . . them." 

"I will," Castiel promised. "Don't move." 

"Wasn't . . . planning on it." Alex's voice shook with effort. Her breathing was labored and wet. She knew it was a miracle she was still alive; most likely one of her lungs had been punctured and was filling with blood. And somehow this was more terrifying than when Zachariah had taken away her lungs. She breathed again. 

Castiel disappeared, and Alex was alone. Now she was more than terrified. She knew if she had enough strength, she would be shaking with fear. But she couldn't. 

 

 **S** he wasn't sure how long she was alone, but soon there were footsteps approaching the bed. "Alex?" Castiel stopped beside her. 

Unable to form words, Alex just cracked open her eyes. Castiel stood there, and another man beside him. The man reached out, placing a hand on her chest. Then the pain was gone. Alex inhaled shakily. She lay there, closing her eyes. "Thanks, uh . . ." 

"Emmanuel." 

"Emmanuel," Alex repeated. She suddenly sat up. "What about Sam and Dean?" 

"They're okay," Castiel promised. 

Emmanuel turned to Castiel. "Am I still needed? Being seen with you is, unwise, at the present time." 

"You may go." 

Emmanuel disappeared. 

Alex jumped up, pulling Castiel into a desperate hug, forcing herself to be calm. Which was easier with Castiel. The angel hesitated, then slowly hugged her back. "What about Sam and Dean?" Alex finally asked. Their bodies were still laying on the bed. 

"They're in heaven, Alex." 

"Can you bring them back?" Alex blinked. "They, they can't die! They didn't die in the show!"

"It's fine. I talked with them. They're trying to find their way into the Garden. They can come back whenever they want." When Alex made a questioning noise, he continued. "Zachariah needs to bring them back--" 

"-- so they can finish the Apocalypse," Alex finished. "Right." She let out a sigh of relief. "By the way, thank you. I-I thought I was going to die." 

"I won't let you die," Castiel promised. 

Alex smiled. "Well, thank you." There was a short pause. "What did Emmanuel mean by, 'it's unwise to be seen with you'?" 

Castiel's eyes darkened. "I'm fallen, Alex. I rebelled. Any angel seen with me will be condemned of rebelling as well." 

"Oh." Alex let out a sigh. "Sorry about that." 

"It's not your fault." Castiel paused. "I have to go. Call if there is any trouble." 

"Okay." Alex watched him disappear. She looked down. Her shirt was torn and bloody. "Damn," she muttered. She got up and changed. 

 

 **C** astiel did not return, but less than two hours later, Sam inhaled loudly, and his eyes fluttered open. He sat up. Dean sat up a few seconds later. Alex gave a sigh of relief. "Thank God." 

Sam looked over at Dean. "You alright?" 

"Define alright." Dean got off of the bed. Blood still covered his chest and back, but otherwise he seemed okay. He grabbed his phone. 

Sam looked over at Alex. "How about you? You okay?" 

"I'm fine." 

"They didn't shoot you?" 

"I didn't die," Alex corrected him. She glanced over at Dean, who was talking on the phone. He hung up and turned back to them. 

"So they did shoot you?" Dean looked extremely pissed, and then confused. 

"I called for Cas. He brought some angel to heal me up. Damn, that was painful." 

"So he healed you, but not us?" 

"You were _dead_ ," Alex reminded him. "I was still alive. Besides, Cassie said you guys being in Heaven was . . . a opportunity or something."

"That is correct." Castiel appeared behind them. "What did you learn? Can we find God?" 

Dean shook his head. "It's a moot point, Cas." 

"But you spoke to Joshua?" 

"Damn right we did." Dean let his anger spill over. "And you know what? Apparently God told us to 'back off.' He knows what's going on, and he doesn't give a damn." 

Castiel shook his head. He leaned up against the dividing wall in the motel, looking completely hopeless. Sam and Dean wordlessly began packing their things. 

"Maybe . . . Joshua was lying." Castiel finally suggested. 

Dean put on his jacket and turned to look at him. Sam turned as well. "I don't think he was, Cas. I'm sorry," Sam sighed. 

Alex watched them, unsure what to do. She had already packed her stuff a while back. Dean zipped his bag close. Castiel walked over to the motel door. He looked up. "You son of a bitch," he said quietly, so quietly they had to strain to hear him. His voice grew angry. "I believed in . . ." He trailed off, still looking up. Dean stared hopelessly at the angel, and Alex resisted the urge to approach. Castiel turned back to them. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. "I don't need this anymore." He tossed it to Dean. 

Dean caught it, and Alex recognized it as his necklace. 

"It's worthless." Castiel turned away. 

"Cas, wait." Sam's plea fell on deaf ears. Castiel disappeared. Sam angrily threw his shirt into the bag. He turned to Dean, who was still holding the amulet in his hands. "We'll find another way," he promised. "We can stop all of this, Dean." 

Dean looked up, his face tired. "How?" 

"I don't know, but we'll find it." Sam looked over at Alex, who nodded. "We'll find it." 

Dean looked disbelievingly over at them, then sighed. He grabbed his bag and walked over to the door, passing Sam without even a look. He stopped by the door, hesitating. Then he dropped the amulet into the trash can. 

Sam let out a long breath, and Alex briefly closed her eyes. Dean left.

Sam walked over to the trash can, reaching inside. He picked up the amulet, staring at it, face unreadable. But Alex had a pretty good idea what he was thinking. "Sorry," she murmured, staying where she was. "He doesn't mean it." 

"This is my fault." Sam didn't look over at her. "All of it. I, I'm sorry. I've cause more reasons for him to throw it away than for him to keep it." He dropped it back in the trash and left, shoulders dropping. 

"Dammit!" Alex cursed loudly, kicking the nearest wall. It hurt, but didn't help. Why did this have to happen? She could have stopped this. She walked over to the trash can and took out the necklace. It was heavier than it looked. She shoved it in her pocket and followed Sam out. 

 

 **T** hey stopped for breakfast a few miles out. Alex watched Dean walk to the bathroom, then turned to Sam. She fished the necklace out of her pocket. "Sam." 

"What?" Sam watched her open her hand, revealing the golden amulet. 

"I, uh, I saved it," she admitted, not making eye contact. "I know how much it means to guys. About the whole Christmas thing, too." 

She felt Sam stare at her, and he sighed. "Thank you." He took it and put it in his own pocket. "I'll, uh, I'll take care of it."


	44. 99 Problems

**April 8th, 2010**

**Blue Earth, Minnesota**

**I** t was a week later when they drove up to Blue Earth, Minnesota. There had been storms and other omens that pointed to demonic activity. They had driven around for a while until it was dark. "There." Dean slowed the car.

"What?" Alex looked out the window.

"I saw something." Dean pulled the Impala to the side of the road and got out. He grabbed his shotgun off of the seat. Alex and Sam followed, guns in hand. Dean headed into the trees.

"I dunno, Dean," Alex said quietly. "This seems kinda dangerous. What if this is a trap?" She paused. "Can you smell that?" She scented the air.

"Sulphur." Sam cursed, raising his gun.

"Very good." A voice sounded behind them.

All three spun around. A man stood there. He blinked, and his eyes turned black. "Dean Winchester. Haven't seen you in a while."

Dean shot him. The salt rounds sent him flying backwards.

Suddenly they were surrounded. "What the hell?" Dean cursed under his breath.

There were more demons than Alex could count. The air was heavy with the stench of sulphur. She cocked her gun. "Dean?"

"Damn," Dean cursed again. "Back to the car!"

Alex fired three shots in succession. Three demons flew back. However, they were quickly replaced.

"Just run!" They turned tail and ran. Alex, having shorter legs, was steadily falling behind, and pumped her legs harder. A demon appeared in front of her, and Alex swerved, but not soon enough. Her shoulder collided with the demon, knocking them to the ground. Alex struggled back to her feet as iron-like hands gripped her leg. She thrashed around desperately. Thinking fast, she fumbled for the flask of holy water she had brought. She unscrewed the cap and tossed it onto the demon. It shrieked in pain, letting her go. She grabbed her gun and ran. Sam was grappling with a demon a few feet ahead. The demon had a knife, and Sam was bleeding. Before Alex could help, a shot was fired, and the demon fell backwards. Sam scrambled to his feet, casting a glance back at Alex.

They ran to the car and got in. As soon as Alex closed her door Dean sped off. Glancing behind her, Alex saw the demons giving chase. "Faster," she urged. "They're following."

Dean obliged. He floored it, and the car shot forward. The demons still pursued.

"Faster, Dean," Sam hissed out. He was still bleeding from his left shoulder, and let out a pained noise.

"I can't!" Dean snapped. Alex looked down at the speedometer; it read almost ninety. Dean glanced over at his brother. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam lied. "I'm amazing."

"You ever seen that many?"

"No. No way, not in one place."

The car spun around a corner, and Dean slammed both feet on the brakes. In front of them was a semi, laying on it's side. It was on fire. Sam let out a surprised noise. "What the hell?"

"Dammit!" Dean exclaimed. He threw the car into reverse, turning around. Suddenly, something smashed through the windows, It tried to pull Dean out of the car. Alex yelled a warning, but it was too late. Another demon grabbed Sam, almost yanking him through the window.

Alex sat in the middle, not sure what to do. Suddenly the demons screamed. She looked up to see a stream of water hitting the demons. It burned them, and they let go of the hunters. A large truck had pulled up, and the water was coming from there. Two men got out, and one had a megaphone. He started yelling words into it. The demons screamed again, black smoke twisting out of their mouths. The vessels collapsed to the ground.

The three of them sat there in shock. Alex's heart was pounding, but something was off. She leaned forward. "What was that?" she whispered. "It wasn't Latin. It almost sounded Enochian."

It looked like Sam and Dean ignored her. "Well, you don't see that everyday," Dean finally said.

The man who had spoken those strange words approached. "You three alright?"

"Peachy." Dean got out of the car. Sam followed.

"Be careful. It's . . . dangerous out there." The man started walking away.

"Whoa whoa whoa wait." Dean called him back. He hurried around the car towards him.

"No need to thank us."

"No. Hold up." Dean shook his head to clear it. "Who are you guys?"

"We're the Sacrament Lutheran Militia."

"I'm sorry. The what?"

"I hate to tell you this, but those were demons, and this is the Apocalypse. So. . . buckle up."

All three stood quietly for a few seconds before Alex started laughing.

"The Apocalypse isn't funny, miss," the man said impatiently.

"It's just a little." Alex smiled.

"I'm being serious. It's happening. "

"Yes, I know it is," Alex countered. "I was kind of there when it started. My bad."

"So are you guys hunters?" Dean asked, cutting Alex off.

"Sorry, what? Hunters?"

"Yeah, you know. Demons . . . hunters."

"In that case, yes."

"Sorry. What was your name again?" Sam finally asked.

"Rob." Rob held out his hand.

"Hm. I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean. That's Alex." Alex waved hello.

Dean walked over to the trunk. He opened it, then propped open the weapon's box. The two other men from the truck joined them, looking in.

"And it looks like we're in the same line of business," Sam added.

"And among colleagues." Dean pointed to the shotgun one of the men was holding. "That's a police issued shotgun. That truck is . . . inspired. Where'd you guys get all this crap?"

"And that exorcism wasn't latin," Alex added. "It almost sounded like it was Enochian." Dean nodded in agreement.

Rob shrugged. "You know, you pick up a few things along the way."

Dean exchanged a glance with his brother. "Guys, come on. The whole corner of the state's overrun with demon omens. We just want to help. That's all."

"We're on the same team here," Sam continued. "Just talk to us."

Rob exchanged a look with his associates. "Follow us," he finally said. He got back into his truck and drove off. They got into the Impala and followed.

"I dunno, Dean." Alex finally said. "I mean, that definitely sounded Enochian. You don't just _pick up_ Enochian."

Dean grunted in agreement. "We're just gonna see what's up," he promised.

Alex fell back into her seat.

 

 **T** he sun was starting to appear over the horizon, and by the time they got to the town, everything was visible, the overcast clouds giving the deserted streets a foreboding feeling. The mist settling over the town didn't help. They pulled up in front of the church and got out. Sam had changed into a different shirt, and when he got out, he tossed Dean his bloodied one. Dean put it in the trunk before getting out his pistol, putting it in his jeans. Alex grabbed hers and did the same. Concrete dividers with barbed wire lined the streets as well as the path leading to the church doors. Two men stood guard where the path and road met, and a large, red devil's trap was placed beneath them, leaving no option but to go through it. Alex followed the Winchesters into the church. Inside, there were many people. Alex quickly realized it was a wedding. She furrowed her brow in confusion.

At the front of the church stood a man, dressed in the black garb of a Catholic Father. "Who would have thought the Apocalypse could be so romantic? Marriage, family--" he motioned to the couple in front of him, " -- it's a blessing. Especially in times like this. So hold onto that."

"Wedding?" Sam scoffed. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Paul nodded, eyes focused on the couple. "We've had eight so far this week."

Alex huffed.

 

 **A** lex watched the newly weds hurry out into the street, surrounded by their friends. She and the Winchesters stood outside the doors of the church, arms crossed, the same expression across all of their faces.

"So Rob tells me you boys hunt demons."

They turned around to see the pastor standing behind them. "Uh . . . yes sir," Sam nodded.

"You missed a few."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "Yeah. Tell us about it. Any idea why they're here?"

The man shook his head. "They sure seem to like us though. Follow me." He motioned them into the church.

"So you're a preacher?" Dean asked, following the man down a flight of stairs.

"Now what you expected, huh?"

"Well, dude, you're packing."

The man shrugged. "Strange times." He led them into the church's basement. At least a dozen people were down there, making what Alex recognized to be ammunition. Not just any ammunition. Salt rounds.

"Is that a twelve year old packing salt rounds?" Dean voiced her thoughts. Alex glanced over at the girl.

"Everybody pitches in." The pastor led them further into the room.

"So, the whole church?"

"The whole town."

Dean glanced back at his brother. "A whole town full of hunters. I don't know whether to run screaming or buy a condo."

"Well, the demons were killing us. We had to do something."

"So why not call the National Guard?" Sam asked.

"We were told not to."

"By who?"

The pastor looked up at Sam, but didn't answer.

"Come on, Padre. You’re as locked and loaded as we've ever seen. And that exorcism was Enochian. Someone's telling you something."

"Look. I' m sorry, I, uh, I can't discuss it."

"Dad, it's okay." One of the teenage girls turned around. Alex jumped slightly at the voice so close to her ear, and she took a step back closer to Dean. The girl stepped forward. Long, wavy brown hair, a blue polka-dot blouse, and a knit sweater that was somewhere between light grey and beige. Alex couldn't exactly tell in the dim light.

"Leah--"

"It's Sam and Dean Winchester. They're safe. I know all about them."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, and Alex frowned. She opened her mouth to remind the girl that she was part of this too, but reluctantly decided against it.

"You do?" Dean studied the girl in suspicious confusion.

"Sure from the angels."

"Oh, that's great," Alex grumbled.

"Thee angels," Dean agreed. "Awesome."

"Don't worry. They can't see you here. The . . . marks on your ribs, right?" Leah touched her lower ribs as emphasis.

So you know all about us because angels told you?" Sam looked down at the girl, confusion on his face.

"Yeah, among other things."

"Like that snappy exorcism spell," Dean added, his voice taking on that hint of brusqueness that came when he wasn't exactly pleased.

"And they show me where the demons are going to be, before it happens. How to fight back."

"Never been wrong." The pastor stepped closer to his daughter, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Not once. She's very special."

The girl blushed. "Dad . . ."

"And let me guess. Before you . . . see something, you get a really bad migraine, you see flashing lights?"

Leah paused. "How'd you know?" she asked slowly.

"Cause you're not the first prophet we've met. But you are the cutest." Leah smiled, and Dean grinned back. "I mean that with total respect, of course," he hurriedly added when the pastor shot Dean a look.

"Is, uh, there a motel in town?" Alex asked quietly. "I mean, I'm assuming we're going to stick around a while."

Dean tore his gaze off of the prophet and looked down at Alex. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. That's a good idea."

"There's one down the road."

"Thanks." Sam nudged Dean out of the room.

 

 **A** fter checking into their motel room, they had a late dinner at Paul's Tavern that was down to streets. Alex was finishing up her burger when Sam came back with two beers.

"So, did you get a hold of Cas?" Dean reached for his beer.

"Yeah, I left him a message. I think." Sam looked over at Alex. "What's up with his voicemail? I thought you said you helped him set it up."

"I did." Alex swirled a fry in some ketchup. "After about an hour, that's the best we were able to do."

Dean pulled out his phone. "What does it say?"

He dialed Castiel's number, and Alex heard the phone ring. It rang again, then once more before a woman said, "You have reached the voicemail box of--"

"I don't understand. Why, why do you want me to say me name?" Castiel's voice came through the phone. Then their was the sounds of several buttons being pressed before a long beep.

Dean snapped his phone closed and looked over at Alex, eyebrow quirked.

She shrugged. "I think it's great." She shoved the fry into her mouth.

"So, uh, what's your theory?" Sam turned the conversation back to the subject at hand. "Why all of the demon hits?"

"I don't know. Gank the girl . . . prophet, maybe?"

“I . . .” Alex hesitated. “Do we even know Leah’s a prophet? I — I feel like I would remember if there was another prophet that’s not Chuck.”

Sam just shook his head, and Dean paused. "What?"

"Just these angels are sending these people to do their dirty work."

"Yeah. And?"

"And they could get ripped to shreds."

"We're all gonna die, Sam. In like a month -- maybe two. I mean it. This is the end of the world. But these people aren't freaking out. In fact, they're running to the exit in an orderly fashion. I don't know that that's such as bad thing."

"They're not all going to die," Alex snapped.

"What ever happened to us saving them?" Sam added. He and Dean stared at each other for several seconds.

The sound of the church bells rang through the bar, and as Alex watched, the people stood up and exited the bar. Dean watched them go as well. "Something I said?" he half-joked.

"Paul." Sam called out the bartender's name as he passed. "What's going on?”

"Leah's had another vision." With that, Paul left.

"Wanna go to church?" Sam turned his attention back to his brother

"You know me -- downright pious." Dean finished off his beer, then stood up.

Alex followed the Winchesters out into the street and into the church. They stood in the back as the pastor -- Pastor Gideon, as they had been told -- made his way up to the pulpit. Leah followed, standing behind her father. "Three miles off Talmadge Road," he began. However, Leah leaned forward, whispering something in her father's ear. "Five miles," the pastor corrected. "There are demons gathered. I . . . don't know how many, but a lot. Thank you, Leah. So. Who's going to join me?"

Rob raised his hand. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Someone's got to cover Rob's ass," Paul volunteered. Several other people raised their hands as well.

Dean looked over at Sam, then down at Alex. She nodded. Dean raised his voice. "We're in, Padre."

"Thank you." Pastor Gideon looked upwards. "I'd like to offer a prayer." His eyes drifted close. "Our Father in Heaven --"

"Yeah, not so much," Dean whispered. Alex kicked him in the leg with the side of her foot in reprimand. She glanced up to see Paul take a swig out of his flask, patiently waiting for Gideon to finish.

"Help us to fight in your name," Gideon continued. "We ask that you protect us from all servants of evil. Guide our hands in defeating them, and deliver us home safely. Thank you. Amen."

 

 **F** ifteen minutes later, Alex crept through the woods towards a large, dilapidated house. Dean was in front of her, shotgun in hand. By her side was a teenage boy, eighteen years old. His name was Dylan, as Alex had recently learned. Rob's son. She heard the rustle of leaves, and she glanced to her right to see a flash of brown through the trees. There were two other parties surrounding the house; one led by Pastor Gideon himself, and the other by Sam Winchester.

Dean led them around to the back. He motioned them forward towards a shed. Alex followed, finger slipping towards the trigger of her shotgun in preparation for what might come. Dean raised his gun as he stepped in front of the shed door. Dylan did the same, then turned away. It was empty.

They made their way to the back porch. Dean pointed to a window further down, and Alex nodded, slipping off to check it. She heard surprised noise, and spun around to see a man pinning Dean against the house. Before she could react, Dylan fired his shotgun. The demon fell down with a cry.

" _Vivi tato mona dae_." Blach smoke flew out of the demon's mouth at Dylan's words.

Dean kicked open the door, and the three of them hurried in. Fighting and gunshots could be heard clearly from upstairs. A shot was fired next to her, and Alex jumped as a man fell at their feet. Dean moved towards the staircase, and Alex followed, leaving Dylan to exorcise the demon.

A demon appeared at the top of the stairs, and Dean fired, knocking it flat. They continued down the hall just as Dylan caught up. In the main room was Sam; he stabbed demon with the knife before turning to look at them.

Demons came from all sides, and Alex lost track of what was happening. Shots were fired, men fell. She heard the empty click of a barrel, and turned to see Dean just as he thrust the butt of his gun into a demon's face. Alex spun around and fired two shots, and a demon fell by the door. There was a cry, and Alex jumped as a body landed right by her feet. Dean reached down and pulled the demon knife out of the man's back before stabbing the other demon he had been fighting in the heart. Its face flashed, and it crumpled to the ground.

The house was silent. Alex looked over at Sam to see him lying on the ground, breathing heavily. He looked from Alex to Dean, then pulled himself up to his feet.

There were footsteps. Rob and Paul moved past them and out of the house. Pastor Gideon hurried down the stairs to see the three of them standing there. "Is that all?"

"Think so." Dean wiped the knife's blade on his worn jeans.

The man nodded curtly. "Let's go." He led them out of the house.

Everyone was still alive. Alex did a quick head count; not counting the three of them, there were five people. Just like before. That was good. She and the Winchesters fell to the back.

"I guess that's what it's like, huh?" Sam said quietly.

"What?"

"Having backup."

Dean smiled slightly, shaking his head. But he didn't argue. He stopped in front of the Impala, and they threw their weapons into the trunk.

"Dean!" Alex looked up at Dylan's voice. "Sam."

Dean looked up. "Yo."

"Hey. So, uh, is -- is that -- is that cool that I get a ride back with you guys?"

Sam looked at Dean, shrugging. Alex did the same; she didn't care.

Dean nodded, the waved at the firetruck. It drove away. "Hey, you've saved my ass twice already," Dean chuckled. "One more time, you can drive.”

Sam handed his brother a beer. Dean reached into the cooler in the trunk and pulled out another. He tossed it to Dylan, who caught it, confused.

"Hey. You earned it. Don't tell your mom."

"Oh believe me. I will not." Dylan grinned and turned so he was leaning against the side of the Impala. Alex heard the crack and hiss as the beer can was opened. Dean and Sam did the same, clinking the cans together before taking a sip. Alex closed the trunk and jumped up on it, leaning back against the back window.

“You don’t drink?”

Alex glanced at Dylan. “I don’t like to. This was a pretty chill hunt. I don’t think I’m going to need to.” She returned her gaze to the sky. It was still light out. Judging by the sun, it probably would be for the next few hours--

Dylan let out a cry, pitching forward. Alex jumped, blood running cold at the sound. She jumped off the car and raced around to where the boy had been pulled under the car. Dean was by her side in a second. Alex heard a faint cry and the sound a knife sinking into flesh as she and Dean puled Dylan out.

The boy was lifeless, eyes staring blankly upwards. His throat was torn wide open by what could only be human teeth. "No," Dean breathed.

Sam hurried over to his brother. "Demon."

Alex looked down at Dylan's body. "W-We should get him back to town," she finally said. She tore her gaze away, looking towards the trees.

"Yeah."

 

 **A** lex stood outside the church, watching as Dylan's coffin was carried in. Even though entire town was there, there were still empty pews. But Alex didn't think they were going to go in. It just . . . didn't seem right.

Dean's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Ma'am, we're just, um, very sorry." Alex turned to see Rob and a woman standing in front of them. Alex knew Rob was Dylan's father, so the woman had to be his mom.

"You know . . ." the mother spoke, voice raw with grief, "this is your fault."

Alex looked away, not wanting to even be part of the conversation.

Rob gently nudged his wife forward, an arm around her shoulders for comfort. "Jane," he said quietly. "Come on." They stepped past the Winchesters and into the church. Alex looked up in time to see Sam and Dean exchange soulful looks. They entered the church, and Alex slowly followed, sliding into the back pew beside Dean.

"I wish I knew what to say," Pastor Gideon finally said, looking down at the open coffin. "But I don't." He looked over at the parents. "I'm so sorry, Jane, Rob. There are no words. Dylan . . . I don't know why it happened." He turned towards the rest of the congregation, voice growing stronger. "I don't know why any of this is happening. I got no easy answers. But what I do know it--"

Suddenly, Leah fell into the isle, making no move to brace herself.

"Leah, honey?"

The daughter started seizing violently. Gideon knelt down as worried gasps came from the crowd. Dean leaned forward, confused and worried as well. "Leah, honey?" Pastor Gideon reached out to steady her as Leah stopped thrashing. "Honey? It's okay sweetie. It's okay." He gently helped her sit up.

"Dad, it's Dylan," Leah gasped.

"Just rest a minute, okay?"

"No, listen. Dylan's coming back."

Surprised gasps and murmurs filled the room.

Leah shakily stood up, and her father reached out, trying to steady her. She gently pushed him away, getting to her feet. She moved so she was in the front of the church. "Jane, Rob," she began, "it's going to be okay. You'll se Dylan again. When the final day comes, Judgement Day, he'll be resurrected and you'll be together again. We'll all be together. With all our loved ones. We've been chosen." She turned her attention to everyone. "The angels have chosen us. And we will be given paradise on earth. All we have to do is follow the angels' commandments."

 

 **"N** o drinking, no gambling, no premarital sex." Sam pushed his way out of the church. "Dean, they basically just outlawed ninety percent of your personality."

Alex grunted in agreement, rolling her shoulders back. To be honest, the rules Leah had put down made sense, but it seemed a little strange. From what she knew, it didn't seem like the angels really gave a damn about stuff like that. But what the hell did she know?”

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, well, whatever. When in Rome."

Sam looked over at his brother, confused. "So, uh . . . you're cool with it?"

"I'm not cool. I'm not, not cool. I'm just, look man," he sighed, "I'm not a prophet. We're not locals. It's not my call." There was a moment of silence, and Dean glanced back towards the church. "I'll catch up with you."

He brushed past Alex, who looked up at Sam. "So . . . now what?"

"I'm going to the bar." Sam reached into his pocket. "You want to go back to the motel?" He held out the key.

Alex took it, shoving into her jeans. "The bar?" she repeated. "Didn't they just outlaw drinking?"

"I just want to talk to Paul."

"Sure." Alex snorted. "Whatever. You go 'talk to Paul' and whatnot. I'll be watching tv."

 

 **S** he walked with Sam down the road before he turned off towards the tavern. Alex continued on to the motel. She took a quick shower before turning on the tv and pulling Dean's laptop close.

 

 **"H** ey!" Alex looked up at the sound of static. It was a few hours later, and the sky was starting to darken. She turned her eyes upon the tv to see black and white squiggly lines dancing across the screen. She glanced back at Dean's laptop to see that the Internet was down as well. "Hey!" she repeated angrily. "I was using that!"

She got off of the bed and approached the tv. She checked the cables; everything looked just fine. Confused, she pulled out her cellphone to call Sam. _No service_. "Dammit!"She threw her phone onto the bed. "The world is ending," she whined before pulling herself to her feet and staggering over to the landline. She fell on the bed and pulled it near.

"Hello?"

"C-Can I have the number for the, uh, the tavern?"

"Sure."

After she was given the number, she called the tavern. "I want Sam," she said when the phone was answered.

There was a bit of shuffling, and then Sam's voice came through. "Uh, Alex?"

"We're all going to die." Alex lay across the bed, head and shoulders hanging over the bed. “ _Die_ , Sam. Did you hear me?"

"What's wrong?" There was a scraping noise as Sam stood up, pushing back the chair.

"The internet's down!" Alex slid further off of the bed. "And the cable! And the cell towers!" She fell to the ground with a thud and a whine. "We're going to die --"

Sam hung up.

 

 **D** ean came back an hour later. Alex hadn't moved from her spot on the floor. "What's up with you?"

"We're going to die," Alex repeated apathetically.

"No we're not." Dean sat down on the bed and turned on the tv. It turned back to its default pattern. "The hell?"

"Everything's down," Alex mumbled. "Cable, cell towers, wifi. We're stuck here. Only landlines work." She stood up, running her hand through her blonde hair. "There's a Goodwill in town . . ." she said slowly. "I'm in need of some new shirts. Wanna go?"

Dean flicked the tv off. "Sure," he shrugged, casting one last glance towards the tv. "There's nothing to do here."

 

 **T** he sun was setting by the time they got back. Dean turned on the lamp in-between the beds but left the overhead off. Alex threw her bag onto her bed, then dug through it. She pulled out a grey striped shirt. "You think this'll look fine on me?" she asked him again.

Dean finished putting on a pot of coffee and sat down on the far bed, leaning against the headboard. "Yeah, yeah. It's fine."

There was a knock on the door, and Alex hurried over to let Sam in.

"Where you been?"

"Drinking." Sam closed the door behind him.

"You rebel."

"I'd have had more, um, but it was curfew."

"Right."

Sam glanced over at the tv. "You hear they shut down the cell towers?"

"Yeah. Alex told me." Dean whistled. "No cable, internet."

"Total cut off from the 'corruption of the outside world,' " Sam added scathingly, making sure to add air quotes.

"Huh. It sucks."

Sam looked brother, eyes narrowed in angry confusion. "Don't you get it? They're turning this place into some . . . some kind of fundamentalist compound."

"No, I get it."

"And all you've got's a 'hmm'? What's wrong with you?"

"I get it. I just don't care."

"What?" Sam looked over at Alex, then back at Dean.

Dean sat up. ”What difference does it make?" he asked with a forced laugh.

"It makes a hell of a —” Sam cut himself off, studying his brother. He let out a huff of angry laughter. “At what point does this become too far for you?" he finally snapped. "Stoning? Poisoned Kool-Aid? The angels are toying with people!" He sat down on the bed opposite Dean, and Alex slid out of the way, not wanting to get involved in what was sure to be some sort of fight.

"Angel world, angel rules, man." Dean stubbornly refused to get worked up. He just seemed . . . tired.

“And since when it that okay with you?”

“Since the angels got the only lifeboats on the Titanic.” Dean stood up and walked over to the kitchen area. “I mean, who exactly is suppose to come along and save these people? It was suppose to be us. But we can’t do it.” He picked up a mug and poured himself a cup of black coffee.

"So what?" His brother's indifference just fueled Sam's confusion and anger. "You wanna, you wanna just want to stop fighting, roll over?"

"I don't know, maybe.” Dean took a sip.

"Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Cause you can't do this."

"Actually, I can."

“No, you can’t do this.” Sam stood up, turning to face his brother. “You can’t do this to me.” When Dean didn’t say anything, Sam looked away, taking a deep breath. “I got one thing, one thing keeping me going,” he finally said. “You think you’re the only one white-knuckling it here, Dean? I can’t count on anyone else. I can’t do this alone.”

Dean looked down at the ground. He set his mug on the table and moved towards the door.

“Dean.”

The older Winchester grabbed his jacket. “I need to clear my head,” he told them, not even looking back.

“It’s past curfew.” Sam said after him. The door closed, and Sam turned away. “It’s past curfew,” he repeated quietly.

Alex watched the Winchester quietly. “We’re going to save these people,” she promised quietly.

Sam looked over at her, and Alex was surprised to see his eyes were watering slightly. “I know,” he finally said. His eyes flickered over to the plastic bag. “What’s that?”

“Me and Dean went shopping.” Alex was glad for the change in subject. “I got this shirt I kinda like. Want to see it?” She turned and grabbed it off of the bed before stripping off her old t-shirt and pulling it on. She turned back to Sam. “Well?”

The Winchester shrugged. “It’s nice,” he said half-heartedly.

“I need new clothes.” Alex looked down at it, then moved slightly to the left so she could see herself in the tv’s reflection. “I like it.”

Sam pulled a book out of his bag, flipped through the pages, then stuck it back in his bag with a sigh.

“I got your message.” Alex spun around at Castiel’s voice. The angel was leaning against dividing wall. Alex moved forward. He looked unstable, and she was worried he was hurt. “It was long, your message,” Castiel continued. “And I find the sound of your voice grating.”

Alex stopped, confused. Sam blinked. “What’s wrong with you? Are you . . . drunk?”

“No!” The angel insisted. He swayed slightly, then admitted, “ . . . yes.”

“What the hell happened to you?”

Cas let out a quiet noise, and leaned his head against the iron post. “I found a liquor store.”

“And?”

“And I drank it.” Castiel moved towards them unsteadily. “Why’d you call me?”

“Whoa.” Sam reached out to steady him. “There you go. Easy. Are you okay?”

Castiel paused, then moved forward slightly, leaning up so his mouth was by Sam’s ear. “Don’t ask stupid questions.” He pulled way. “Tell me what you need.” He leaned against the bed.

“Dude. This was an episode.” Alex took a step back as Castiel stumbled. “Trust me. I remember Cas being drunk.”

“T-There have been these — these demon attacks,” Sam explained. “Massive, right on the edge of town. And we can’t figure out why they’re —”

“Any sign of angels?” Cas interrupted.

“Sort of. They’ve been speaking to this prophet.”

“Who?”

“This girl, Leah Gideon.”

“She’s not a prophet.”

“I’m pretty sure she is,” Sam insisted. “Visions, headaches — the whole package.”

“The names of _all_ the prophets, they’re seared into my brain. All angel’s brains, actually. Leah Gideon is not one of them.”

Sam paused. “Then what is she?”

A moment of silence. Then Castiel shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Alex?”

“I don’t know. I only remember Cas being drunk. But yeah. Pretty sure she’s not a prophet.”

Castiel groaned. He moved over towards the couch. Alex and Sam followed. “Dude, are you sure you’re okay?” Alex asked worriedly.

“That shirt.” Castiel looked at her. “It’s new.”

“Yeah. I just got it.” Alex looked down at it. “You like it?”

“No.” Castiel sat down.

Alex frowned, hurt by his abruptness. “O-Oh. Okay.”

“W-Where’s Dean?”

“Out.” Castiel stood up, and Sam stepped forward, pushing the angel back down. “You better stay here until he gets back, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Castiel sat back down.

 

 **A** few hours passed, and still no sign of Dean. Sam stood up, worried. “Maybe we should go look for him,” he suggested. “He should be back by now.”

Alex nodded. “Yeah.” She glanced over at Castiel. He was studying Sam’s book. It was upside down. “Maybe we should leave the angel behind,” she whispered.

“I can hear you,” Castiel informed them. “I’m still a celestial being.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. You — just stay here, alright? In case Dean comes back.”

Castiel nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Alex repeated. Then she and Sam left.

 

 **T** he morning came. Alex and Sam had given up hours ago, and Alex had caught a few minutes of sleep before the door opened. Sam stood up. “We went out looking for —” He cut himself off. “You alright?”

Alex sprung to her feet as well; Dean’s hands were covered with blood.

Dean looked down. “Yeah. It — it’s not my blood. Paul’s dead.”

“What?!”

“Jane shot him.”

“It’s starting.”

“What’s starting?” Dean looked down at Cas, who was still on the couch, noticing him for the first time. “Where the hell have you been?”

“On a bender,” Cas replied with perhaps the most sarcasm Alex had ever seen him muster.

“Did he — did you say ‘on a bender’?” Dean looked over at his brother, confused.

“Yeah.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “He’s still pretty smashed.”

“It’s not of import,” Castiel said. “We need to talk about what’s happening here.”

“Well, I’m all ears.” Dean walked over to the sink and washed his hands.

“Well, for starters . . .” Sam sat down on the red leather couch beside the angel, “Leah is not a real prophet.”

Dean stopped. He turned back to them. “Well, what is she exactly?”

“The whore.”

Dean looked down at Castiel. “Wow, Cas, tell us what you really think.”

“Oh!” Alex sat down on the arm of the couch beside Sam. “Whore of Babylon. Right.”

“She rises when Lucifer walks the earth,” Castiel told them. He pointed to a large book that he had gotten last night and started to read. “ ‘And she shall come, bearing false prophecy.’ This creature has the power to take a human’s form, read minds. Book of Revelations calls her ‘the Whore or Babylon.’ ”

Alex nodded in agreement. Dean looked between the two of them. “Well, that’s catchy,” he finally said. Alex rolled her eyes.

“The real Leah was probably killed months ago,” Sam said.

“What about the demons attacking the town?”

“They’re under her control.”

“And the Enochian exorcism?”

“Fake. It actually means, ‘you breed with the mouth of a goat.’ ” Castiel smiled, waiting for them to laugh. Sam and Dean looked at each other, then Dean glanced at Cas, an eyebrow raised. Seeing the hunters’ confusion, Castiel added, “It’s funnier in Enochian.”

“I’m sure it is,” Alex promised.

“So the demons smoking out — that’s just a con? Why? What’s the endgame?”

“What you just saw — innocent blood spilled in God’s name.”

“You heard all that heaven talk,” Sam added. “She manipulates people.”

“To slaughter and kill and sing peppy little hymns,” Dean finished. “Awesome.”

“Her goal is to condemn as many souls to hell as possible. And it’s . . . just the beginning. She’s well on her way to dragging this whole town into the pit.”

“And after she takes the town, she’s going to keep moving,” Alex added. “She’s not going to stop.”

“Alright.” Dean nodded. “So, then, how do we go Pimp of Babylon all over this bitch?”

Alex groaned at the terrible joke, while Sam and Castiel just exchanged glances. Then Castiel was gone.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Alex jumped to her feet. “Cas!” She looked over at Dean. “There’s a drunk angel on the loose. Great.”

Dean walked over to the sink and dried his hands. “Great,” he echoed.

 

 **T** he day passed, and still no sign of Castiel. The three of them spent most of their time holed up in the motel, only leaving to eat. Dean and Sam went to Paul’s funeral service, but Alex opted to stay behind.

That night, Alex took a long, hot shower. When she was done, she tossed her clothes onto the bed, glancing around. Dean had pulled up a chair away from the kitchen and was sitting beside Sam at the coffee table. Alex quickly braided her damp hair, then sat down beside Sam, pulling the large book closer. She studied the picture of the Whore. It was old, probably from medieval times. It showed a woman riding a seven headed dragon. She pulled the Bible close as well, scanning Revelations 17. “Dude, I can’t stand the King James Version.” She rubbed her temples. “Seriously. Why not just go NIV like everyone else?”

There was a flutter of wings, and Alex looked up. “It’s about time,” she snapped.

Castiel dropped a stake on the coffee table in front of them. “The whore can be killed with that,” he informed them. “It’s a stake made from a cypress tree in Babylon.”

“Great. Let’s ventilate her.” Dean reached for it.

“It’s not that easy.”

Dean pulled back. “Course not.”

“The whore can only be killed by a true Servant of Heaven.”

“Servant, like . . .”

“Not you. Or me. Sam of course is an abomination.” Castiel turned to look at Alex, expression thoughtful. Alex stood, wondering if he meant her. However, he only said, “You braided your hair.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I like it. It’s different.” Castiel turned back to the Winchesters. “We’ll have to find someone else.”

Alex huffed. “Like who?” She paused. “Are you sure none of us work? Because I feel like Dean killed her in the show.”

Castiel hesitated, so Dean spoke up. “Look. Let’s just get this right the first time, okay? Maybe I can kill her, but I’d rather have someone who can kill her for sure.”

“There’s the, uh, pastor.” Sam looked up at Cas. “I mean, that’s about as true Servant as you get, right?”

Castiel nodded.

“How are we going to get him here?” Alex asked. “I mean, are you just going to tell him that he has to kill his daughter?”

“Well, this whole town’s focused on the angels, right?” Sam looked from Alex to Cas. “Tell him the truth. Tell him you’re an angel.”

Castiel nodded. Then he was gone.

“Great.” Alex stood up. “Does he seem a little hungover to you?” She huffed. “We don’t have much time, guys. He better be one hundred percent. Fast.”

There was another loud flutter of wings, and Alex heard the pages of the open book flutter. She turned around to see Castiel standing there, Pastor Gideon by his side.

“What the hell was that?” Gideon looked over at Castiel, eyes wide.

“Yeah, he wasn’t lying about the angel thing,” Dean told him. “Have a seat, Padre. We got to have a chat.”

He motioned to the chair, and Gideon sat down.

“Alright.” Dean sat down on the couch, leaning forward onto his knees. “I, uh, hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re daughter’s not your daughter.” He paused only a second to let that sink in, ignoring the pastor’s indignant noise. “And she’s not a prophet. You familiar with Revelations 17?” He pushed the Bible towards him.

“Yes.” Gideon took the book, placing it on his lap. “I’ve read it several times in the past few weeks,” he admitted.

“So you’re familiar with the Whore of Babylon.” Dean pulled the cypress stake close. “Listen. The demons are playing with you. And that exorcism? Fake. You saw what Jane did. She’s dragging the entire town into hell.” He pushed the stake closer to Pastor Gideon. “You’re the only one who can stop her.”

Gideon was quiet for several seconds as he comprehended what he was asked to do. “No. She’s my daughter.”

“I’m sorry, but she’s not. She’s the thing that killed your daughter.”

“That’s impossible.”

“But it’s true,” Sam put in, voice soft with sympathy. “And deep down, you know it. Look, we get it — it’s too much. But if you don’t do this, she’s going to kill a lot of people. And damn the rest to hell.”

Dean picked up the stake and held it out.

The pastor hesitated. “It’s just . . . why does it have to be me?”

“You’re a Servant of Heaven,” Castiel answered.

“And you’re an angel.”

“Poor example of one.”

Pastor Gideon looked between Castiel and Dean, then lowered his head and nodded. “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed. “I . . . I’ll do it.”

“Okay.” Dean handed him the stake, and the man shakily took it.

Alex looked up to see Castiel was gone. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. Dean stood up. “I’m going to get something out of the trunk.”

“I’ll come too.” Alex wanted to get out of the room. She hurried outside, letting out a breath at the cold Minnesota air. Dean walked over to the Impala, opening the trunk. Alex glanced to her right to see Castiel sitting on a bench, head in his hands. He let out a pained noise, and Alex sat down beside him. “You okay?”

“My head’s on fire,” the angel groaned.

“Heads up.” Dean tossed something to Alex, and she caught it. She handed the bottle of aspirin to Castiel.

“How many should I take?” Castiel studied the bottle.

“You?” Dean studied the angel. “You should probably just down the whole bottle.”

Alex let out a soft laugh, but Castiel just nodded. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Dean approached. “Yeah, I’ve been there. I’m a big expert on deadbeat dads. So . . . yeah, I get it. I know how you feel.”

Castiel sat there in silence for a few seconds. “How do you manage it?”

“On a good day, you get to kill a whore.”

Castiel looked up at Dean, who shrugged, quirking an eyebrow.

Alex smiled. She leaned into the angel, brushing shoulders. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she promised. “Alright? I would know.”

Dean nodded, eyes focused on Alex, unsure if she was lying or not. “Go get Sam and the Padre,” he told her. “We should go.”

Alex nodded and hurried back into the motel.

 

 **T** hey made their way down the church’s stairs five minutes later. Pastor Gideon led them down a hallway, and pushed their way in through a door. “S-She usually comes in here,” Gideon said quietly. “She’s liked it ever . . . ever since she was a kid.”

Dean closed the door behind them. “Yeah. Hide over there.”

 

 **T** he door opened a little while later, and Leah stepped into the room. Alex pressed herself further into the wall, watching the girl approach the dresser. Her face twitched, morphing into something inhuman. Then it returned to normal.

Castiel appeared right in front of her. In that moment of her surprise, he grabbed her, turning her around. Gideon rushed from his hiding place, stake raised.

“Daddy, don’t hurt me!” Leah cried, eyes wide. Alex jumped out. Sam and Dean hurried towards them. “Gideon, now!” Sam yelled.

However, in that brief second of delay, Leah managed to change the tides. “ _Pizin loco iad_.”

Castiel cried out in pain, falling to the ground. Gideon raised the stake, but Leah pushed out with her hands, sending the pastor flying across the room, as well as the two Winchesters. Alex moved towards her, but the next thing she knew, her back hit the wall, and she fell to the ground.

Leah ran out the door, as everyone struggled to their feet. Pastor Gideon jumped to his feet, running after her. “Gideon!” Sam yelled after the pastor. “Wait! No!” He and Dean pulled themselves up, hurrying out the door.

Alex moved to follow, but paused. Castiel still lay on the ground, groaning. “Cas!” She knelt down beside him. “What did she do?”

“Go,” Castiel rolled onto his side, clutching his chest. Alex hesitated, but did as he said. She ran after the Winchesters. A rush of people pushed her against the wall, and she fought her way through into the basement storage room.

“Let me go!” Jane was being held by Sam, who was struggling to keep the woman still.

Dean was on the floor, Leah on top of him. Her hands were wrapped around his throat. “This is why my team’s gonna win,” she told him. “You’re the great vessel? You’re pathetic, self-hating, and faithless. It’s the end of the world. And you’re just going to sit back and watch it happen.”

In those brief moments it took her to speak those words, Alex crossed the room. She tackled the whore to the ground, struggling to keep the upper hand. A fist connected with her jaw, and a hand wrapped itself around her throat.

Suddenly, Leah went still, eyes wide. Her face twitched, and she started shaking violently. Alex pushed the woman off of her, scrambling away. The cypress stake stuck out of her back. Leah began to seize violently, head thrashing back and forth. Then the stake exploded into flames, and Leah screamed. The stake disintegrated into ash, and the whore fell still, life fading from her eyes.

Alex stood up on shaky legs, gently touching her throat.

 

“But . . .” Jane’s voice came from behind her, small and scared, “I don't understand. How are we suppose to get to paradise now?”

“I’m sorry. Pretty sure you’re headed in a different direction.”

There was a noise behind them, and Alex turned to watch as Pastor Gideon struggled to stand. Sam hurried over to help him. “Gotcha.”

Dean walked behind Sam. “Come on,” he said quietly.

Alex dashed past them. She hurried back into the first room to see Castiel still laying there. She dropped to her knees beside them. “Cas?” She shook the angel. “Castiel?”

The angel’s eyes snapped open. “Alex?” His voice sounded groggy.

“Come on.” Alex tried to help him to his feet. Then Dean was at her side, and together they got Castiel up. They joined Sam, who was helping support Pastor Gideon, and together they made their way up and out of the church.

“Dean, how did you do that?” Sam finally asked as they stepped into the night.

“What?” Dean glanced over his shoulder at his brother.

“Kill her.”

“Long run of luck held out, I guess.” Dean grunted as Castiel staggered.

“Last I checked, she could only be ranked by a Servant of Heaven.”

“Well, what do you want me to tell you? I took a shot. I went for it.”

“Don’t question it,” Alex added. “She’s dead, right? That’s what’s important.” They stopped by the Impala, and Dean and Sam helped the two other men into the backseat.

Alex slid in beside Castiel, ears straining to catch Sam’s words. “Are you gonna do something stupid?” he asked.

“Like what?” Dean circled around to the driver’s side.

“Like _Michael_ stupid.”

“Come on, Sam. Give me a break.” Dean slid in behind the wheel, and Sam followed, closing the door. They drove off to the motel.

 

 **“W** e’re leaving as soon as possible.” Dean dropped Castiel on the bed and threw his few possessions into his bag.

“Yeah, hang on.” Sam helped Pastor Gideon into a chair. “Let me patch him up first.”

“Of course.” Dean stepped outside, carrying his bag. He came back a second later empty-handed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Alex started rolling her clothes up and packing them in her bag. She picked up her new grey striped shirt, then paused studying it. She glanced at Castiel, then back down at the shirt. She reluctantly tossed it under the bed. She zipped up her bag and crawled onto the bed, closing her eyes.

“How’s the head?” Dean walked over to Pastor Gideon.

Alex glanced over at them to see that Sam was bandaging the pastor’s arm. The man held an ice pack tightly against his head with his other hand. “I’m seeing double. But that may be the painkillers.” He ended with a chuckle.

“You’ll be okay.”

“No.”

Several seconds of long silence. Alex closed her eyes, her throbbing headache returning. She heard footsteps, and cracked open one eye to see Dean moving towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“I’m just going to grab some clean bandages out of the trunk. Relax.” With that, he left the motel room.

“There.” Sam finished the bandage. “How’s that?”

The familiar rev of the Impala’s engine filled the air, and Alex jumped out of bed. She and Sam rushed through the door in time to see the Impala disappear down the road. “Dammit!” Sam cursed. “Dean! DEAN!”

Alex watched the Impala leave, eyes wide and mind whirling. “He’s not coming back,” she whispered, because deep down, both she and Sam knew it. Dean was gone.


	45. Point of No Return

**March 10th, 2010**

**Cicero, Indiana**

**A** lex slumped in the front seat of the black Subaru Forester they had taken from the town. “How are we even going to find him?” she asked, snapping closed her phone. “He’s turned off the GPS in his phone. Dean could be anywhere!” 

Sam glanced over at her from behind the wheel. “We’ll find him,” he promised. “We have to.” He merged over, then turned down a ramp onto another highway. 

Alex glanced at the sign curiously. “You know where you’re going?” They had been driving for three days, and so far, Nothing. No sign of Dean at all.

“I think I have an idea.” Sam turned towards a town, and Alex glanced at the sign. “Cicero?” She looked over at Sam. “Why are we here?”

“Dean’s got . . . a friend. Lisa.” Sam slowed down, coasting down the road. “Lisa. They had a thing a while back, then we worked a case down here.” He glanced out the side window. “If I were Dean, I’d come here. There.” He turned the car into a motel parking lot. 

Alex scanned the cars, and her heart melted in relief as she saw the ever-familiar Chevy Impala. “Dean’s here.” 

“Yeah. It’s about time.” Sam turned off the car and threw open the door. “Call Cas.”

Alex pulled out her phone. “Hey Cas. We found Dean. Cicero, Indiana. Uh, Blackhawk Motel.”

Sam stalked up to the door the Impala was parked in front of and knelt down, picking the lock. Alex waited impatiently. It clicked, and Sam pushed his way into the room. 

Dean stood with his back to them, a bottle of scotch on the nightstand, and a cardboard box on the bed.

“Sending someone a candy-gram?” Sam asked dryly.

Dean turned around. He was silent for several seconds, shocked. “How did you find me?” 

“You’re going to kill yourself, right? It’s not too hard to figure out the stops on the Farewell Tour. How’s Lisa doing, anyways?” 

Dean looked down at his glass. “I’m not going to kill myself.” 

“No? So Michael’s not about to make you his Muppet? What the hell, man? This is how it ends? You just . . . walk out?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Dean sounded absolutely defeated, and Alex’s heart ached. He refilled his glass.

“How could you do that?” 

“How could _I_? All you’ve _ever_ done is run away.” Dean’s voice grew in angry. 

“And I was wrong! Ever single time I did.” He let out a long breath, quieting down. “Just . . . please. Not now. Bobby is working on something.”  
 “Oh really?” Dean challenged. “What?” Sam didn’t answer, and Dean continued. “You got nothing and you know it.”

“You know I have to stop you.” 

“Yeah, well, you can try. Just remember. You’re not all hopped up on demon blood this time.” Dean put down his glass and balled his first, ready to fight. Alex stepped back. If Cas didn’t show up, this could turn bloody. 

“Yeah, I know. But I brought help.” 

At those words, Dean turned around, confused. Castiel stood there. He reached out and touched Dean’s forehead. The hunter slumped to the ground. 

Sam hurried over to his brother. He searched his pockets. “Alex. Keys.”

Alex nodded. She searched the motel while Sam, with the help of Cas, pulled Dean up. They carried him out the door as Alex turned to the cardboard box. In big black letters were written the words ‘ROBERT SINGER.” She flipped out her knife and cut through the duct tape sealing it. 

In it were several of Dean’s personal items. Alex grabbed the keys just as Sam reentered the room. “Here.” She tossed them to him. “I’ll get his stuff.” She grabbed his duffle bag as Sam picked up the box, and followed him out of the room. 

 

**Sioux Falls**

**T** hey drove all night up to Sioux Falls. Alex sat in the front seat beside Sam. Every once and a while she’d glance behind her to see Dean, still passed out, on the backseat. His hands were handcuffed together, and his gun and knife sat in the trunk. 

Finally, as the sun was coming up, they pulled into the Singer Salvage Yard. By this time, Dean was stirring, and Sam helped him into the house. He laid him down on the Bobby’s bed, which now sat where the couch once was. 

“You found him.” Bobby wheeled into the study.

“Yeah. Down in Cicero.” Sam looked down at Dean. “He was going to say yes.” He turned back to Bobby. “Find anything?”

 “Nothing.” The hunter wheeled over to the desk and pushed around several pieces of papers. “Nothing we don’t already know.” He growled in frustration. When Alex and Sam didn’t do anything, he looked up. “Well, what are you waiting for? Start reading.” 

 

 **“Y** eah, no, this is good.” It was a few hours later, and Dean was up and functional. Castiel had appeared a while ago, and was now leaning against the wall dividing the kitchen and the study, eyes focused on Dean, face dark. Dean was pacing back and forth, eyes flashing. “You know, six months of turned pages and screwed pooches but tonight, tonight’s when the magic happens.” He leaned up against a small table filled with books, arms crossed. 

“You ain’t helping,” Bobby said, eyes not leaving his book. Alex looked up from where she was reading some book on angel lore with a huff of agreement. 

“Yeah, well, why don’t you let me get out of your hair then?” 

Bobby finally looked up. “What the hell happened to you?” 

“Reality happened,” Dean snapped. He stalked up to Bobby “Nuclear’s the only option we have left. Michael can ice the devil, save a boatload of people.” 

“But not _all_ of them,” Bobby shot back. “We gotta think of something else.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s easy for you to say. But if Lucifer burns this motherfucker down, and I coulda done something about it, guess what? That’s on me.” He returned to the table with a huff.

“You can’t give up, son.” 

“You’re not my father!” Dean turned on Bobby, eyes flashing with rage. “And you ain’t in my shoes.” 

The room fell silent, shocked. Alex winced at his words. Sam looked up at his brother, shaking his head. There was a thud as something dropped onto the desk. Bobby placed an old revolver in view, then reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out a silver bullet. Alex narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Bobby . . .”

Dean glanced at it, then did a double take. “What is that?” 

“That’s the round that I mean to put through my skull.”

“Bobby!”

The old hunter put the bullet down on the desk. “Every morning, I look at it. I think, ‘Maybe today’s the day I flip the lights out.’ But I don’t do it. I _never_ do it. You know why?” Bobby’s voice grew into a roar. “Because I promised you I wouldn’t give up!” 

Castiel let sudden groan, stumbling back, holding his head. He bent forward in pain, and Alex jumped up. “Cas?” 

“Cas, you okay?” Sam was just as concerned. 

“No.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Something’s happening.” 

“Where?” Dean asked.

Then the angel was gone with a gust of wind, leaving stray papers fluttering to the ground. 

“Cas?” Alex looked up in worry and confusion. She turned back to Sam. He shook his head, unsure. Alex sighed. “I’m going to take a break,” she muttered. She ran upstairs. 

 

 **“H** elp.”

“Boys!” 

Alex jumped off of her bed. Something was happening downstairs. She tore down the hall and flew down the stairs before sliding to a stop in the study. Castiel was laying a man down on Bobby’s bed. Sam and Dean were staring down at him, eyes wide. Alex hurried over before stopping dead. She had seen him before. She knew that man. 

“Who is it?” Bobby asked. 

“That’s our brother,” Sam answered, voice quiet with disbelief. 

“Adam.” Alex breathed out the name. The young man was covered with dirt and mud, but his chest moved up and down in steady breathing. She looked up at the Winchesters. “That’s not possible,” she insisted. “We — I thought we burned him. The day after the ghoul case you found his body. We _burned_ him.” 

Dean looked over at the angel. “Cas, what the hell?” 

“Angels.” 

“Angels?” Sam repeated. “Why?” 

“I know one thing for sure. We need to hide him _now_.” Castiel reached down and pressed his hand flat against Adam’s chest. 

A white light emanated from his palm, and Adam arched off the bed, eyes opening in pain. “Where am I?” he gasped, looking around. 

“It’s okay,” Sam promised. “Just relax, you’re safe.” 

“Who the hell are you?” 

Dean looked up at Sam before answering. “You’re going to find this a little . . . a lot crazy. but we’re actually your brothers.”

“It’s the truth,” Sam added. “John Winchester was our father, too. I”m Sam—”

“Yeah, and I’m sure that’s Dean,” Adam finished. “I know who you are.” 

“How?” 

“They warned me about you.” 

“Who did?” 

“The angels. Now where the hell is Zachariah?” 

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. “Just calm down,” Sam told him. “You, uh, maybe we should get you clean up a bit, huh? There’s a bathroom over there.” Sam pointed through the kitchen.

“The one upstairs has a shower,” Alex added quietly. “That might be best.” 

Adam nodded, looking down at his muddy hands. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. Sam led him away.

 

 **T** wenty minutes later, Adam was once again seated on Bobby’s bed, now clean and dressed in some of Dean’s clean clothes. 

Dean pulled up a chair and straddled it, arms resting on the backrest. Castiel leaned against the wall behind him, arms crossed. “So why don’t you tell us everything,” Dean suggested. “Start from the beginning.” 

Adam looked around, his glass of scotch on one knee. He hesitated, then began. “Well, I was dead and in Heaven ‘Cept it — it uh, kinda looked like my prom and I was making out with this girl, her name was Kristen McGee . . .”

“Yeah, that sounds like heaven.” Dean said. “Did you get to third base?” 

“Dean,” Alex admonished. She cleared a spot on the desk beside Sam and sat down, resting her head on an elbow.

“Just uh, just keep going,” Sam told his half-brother. 

“Well, these . . . these angels, they popped out of nowhere, and they tell me that I — I’m chosen.”

 

“For what?” 

“To save the world.” Adam looked up at Sam, eyes wide and serious. 

“How you gonna do that?” Dean asked, partly out of curiosity, and partly out of disbelief.

“Oh, me and some archangel are going to kill the devil.” Adam sounded proud; smug, even. Alex tipped her head. Must be a Winchester thing, having deep voices like that. It was weird. 

“What archangel?” Dean finally asked, confused disbelief on his face. Alex caught Sam’s eyes and raised an eyebrow before turning back to the young man. She knew what he was going to say. 

“Michael,” both she and Adam said at the same time. Adam looked up at her, and she nodded, giving him permission to continue. “I—I’m his, uh, sword or vessel or something, I don’t know.” 

Dean turned to Alex. “You knew.” 

“Yeah.” Alex calmly met his gaze. “Never came up in conversation though.”

“You didn’t even thing of mentioning it?” 

“And what good would that have done?” Alex retorted. “It’s not like we could’ve stopped the angels from bringing Adam back.”

“How can Adam be Michael’s vessel too?” Sam questioned. 

“He’s a Winchester. Of the same bloodline of you and Dean,” Alex answered. “Not the ideal vessel, but he’ll do.” 

“He’s also Sam’s brother,” Castiel added. “Maybe they’re moving on from you, Dean.” 

“Well, you gotta be kidding me,” Dean huffed, turning back to Adam.

“Why would they do this?” Sam asked at the same time.

“Maybe they’re desperate,” Castiel guessed. “Maybe they _wrongly_ assumed Dean would be brave enough to withstand them.” 

Dean turned his head to look at the angel. “Alright, you know what? Blow me, Cas.” 

“Look, no way,” Sam interrupted. “After everything that’s happened? All that crap about destiny? Suddenly the angels have a plan B?” He looked over at Castiel. “Does that smell right to anybody?” 

Adam stood up. “You know, this has been a _really_ moving family reunion, but, uh, I got a thing, so —” He moved towards the door. 

Sam jumped to his feet. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, no, no, no.” He got in front of his half-brother. “Sit down. Just listen, okay? Please.” 

Adam turned around, looking out the window with a shake of his head. “It’s unbelievable,” he muttered, but sat back down.

“Now, Adam . . .” Sam sat back down as well, “the angels are lying to you. They’re full of crap.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” 

“Really. Why not?” 

“Um, cause they’re _angels_.” 

“They tell you they were gonna roast half the planet?”

“They said the fight might get pretty hairy, but it is the devil, right? So we got to stop him.”

“Yeah, but there’s another way.” 

At that, Dean looked over at his brother, eyes dark, a scowl on his face. Sam ignored it. 

“Great.” Adam didn’t seem to catch any of it. “What is it?”

 

“We’re working on ‘the power of love,’ ” Dean said sarcastically. 

Adam didn’t seem amused. “How’s that going?”

“Mmm. Not good.” 

Sam let out a frustrated noise at his brother. “Look, Adam . . . You don’t know me from a hole in the wall, I know. But I’m begging you. Please, just trust me. Give me some time.” 

Adam looked up at the taller Winchester. “Give me one good reason.” He sounded like he was listening. Alex leaned forward. That was good. 

Sam was silent for a few seconds, thinking up an answer. “Because we’re blood,” he finally said. 

“You’ve got no right to say that to me.” 

“You’re still John’s boy,” Bobby chimed in. 

“No. John Winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. I don’t have a dad. So we may be blood, but we are not family. My _mom_ is my family. And if I do my job, I get to see her again. So no offense, but she’s the one I give a rat’s ass about, not you.” 

“Fair enough,” Sam agreed quietly. “But if you have one good memory of dad, just one, then you’ll give us a little more time. Please.” 

Adam hesitated, then sighed. “I’m hungry,” he said, changing the subject. “Is there a chance I can get something to eat?”

Bobby rolled past them into the kitchen. “Sam.” He called the hunter’s name. Sam followed Bobby, and Alex did the same. Bobby turned the wheelchair around. “Take Dean downstairs,” he said quietly. “It’s gonna be hard enough to keep just one of them inside the house.”

“Bobby—”

“Keep him in the panic room. It won’t hurt him.” Bobby turned back to the fridge. “Pull out a couple of those sandwiches, would you?” He asked Alex. 

“That was going to be my lunch for the next week,” Alex insisted. 

“Boo-hoo, princess.” Bobby turned back to Adam. “How’s a sandwich sound?”

“Sounds great.” Adam entered the kitchen, and Sam left. 

Alex reluctantly pulled out two of her shrink-wrapped meals and put them on a plate. She then placed it on the table. “Eat up.” Adam sat down, and Alex sat down across from him. “How are you doing?” she asked, striking up conversation. She heard Sam and Dean leave the room. 

Adam didn't answer. He just unwrapped one of the sandwiches and took a bite.

“The Winchesters aren’t that bad,” Alex promised. “You’re kind of like them, you know?”

“I am _nothing_ like them,” Adam insisted coldly. 

Alex huffed in amusement. “Whatever you say. I’m sorry about your mom. If it makes you feel any better, we ganked the sons of bitches who did it.”

Adam didn’t respond, and Alex left the room. 

 

 **T** en minutes later, Adam was pretty much done eating. He was staring at his half-finished meal, pulling the bread apart. Alex was seated on Bobby’s bed, staring at Castiel. He was staring back. 

“Going somewhere?” Sam’s voice tugged Alex back into reality. She glanced back into the kitchen. Adam wasn’t there anymore.

“Out for a . . . beer,” Adam was saying. He sounded like he was by the front door. Alex stood up, ready to help it things turned messy.

However, Sam sounded like he had the situation under control. “Great. We got beer. Have a seat.” 

“Great,” Adam repeated, sitting back down. Alex watched. He kind of looked like Dean from the back. Probably because he was wearing Dean’s clothes. “You know, you pitched this while dewy-eyed bromance thing, but the truth is, I’m on lockdown, aren’t I?”

“Adam, you may not believe it, but dad was trying to protect you. Keeping you from all of this.” 

“Yeah, well, I guess the monster that ate me didn’t get that memo,” Adam shot back bitterly. 

“You remember that?” Alex glanced into the kitchen. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Still, trust me,” Sam continued. “The one thing worse than seeing dad once a year was seeing him _all_ year.” 

“Do you know how full of crap you are?” 

“What?”

“Really. You see, it was me and it was my mom. That’s it. She worked the graveyard shift at the hospital. I cooked my own dinners. I put myself to bed. So you can say whatever you want about our dad, but the truth is, I would have taken anything.” 

Alex watched as Sam nodded slightly, agreeing with his brother. “Look, if we had known we had a brother . . .”

“Well, you didn’t so . . .”

“— We would have found you,” Sam finished. 

Adam scoffed, shaking his head. 

Sam continued. “Look, I can’t change the past. I wish I could. But from here on out—”

“What?” Adam cut Sam off again. “We gonna hop in the family truckster? Pop on down to Wally World?”

“Tell you one thing, with an attitude like that, you would have fit right in around here.” 

“Sounds just like Dean,” Alex murmured to herself. She turned her gaze back to where Castiel stood, but then frowned. He was gone. “Cas?” She moved towards the basement and hurried downstairs. She heard Sam follow. 

Castiel stood down there. When the two of them reached the last step, he turned, but said nothing. Sam crossed the room and unlocked the panic room door. He tugged it open and stepped inside. Alex followed to see Dean waiting for them. 

His gaze slid past Sam and Alex and came to rest on the angel. “Well, Cas, not for nothing,” he joked dryly, “but the last person who looked at me like that . . . I got laid.” 

Alex glanced back to see Castiel glaring at Dean. He shifted his weight, glare intensifying even more. He was obviously quite pissed. Alex bit her lip; there was no way she ever wanted that anger directed at her. 

Sam noticed Castiel’s mood too. “Uh, why don’t you, uh, go keep an eye on Adam?” 

Castiel motioned with his hand, and the door swung close. Dean turned his gaze back to Sam. “Is that really necessary?” he asked, voice dripping with anger. 

Alex took a step back. Maybe she should leave the two Winchesters alone. She hurried out of the room and back upstairs. “Cas.” The angel was leaning against the kitchen counter, eyes boring holes in the half-Winchester. “Sam wasn’t being literal when he said ‘keep an eye on him,’ okay?” She walked over to him and pulled a coke out of the fridge. “So, tone it back a bit.” 

Castiel didn’t respond, and Alex leaned on the counter next to him. “You okay? You’re in a pretty bad mood lately.”

“I rebelled for this,” Castiel growled. “And now Dean wants to give up?” He looked down at Alex. “I gave up everything in hope that we could fix it. I, I thought we —” He cut himself off. “Never mind.” 

Alex nodded. “Dean will do the right thing,” she promised. “You have to believe in him.”

“I can’t.” 

 

 **A** lex retired to her bedroom a few minutes later. Sam, Bobby, and Castiel could handle Adam and Dean. She just wanted some sleep. 

 

 **T** here was a knock on her door, and Alex woke with a start. “W-What?” 

“Dean’s gone!” Sam pushed open her door. “And so is Cas.” 

Alex threw back her sheets and jumped out of bed. “What? How?” 

“Angel banishing sigil.” Sam led the way back downstairs. “I’m going looking for him.” 

Alex stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “He’s seriously gone.”

“Sh,” Bobby snapped. “Adam just fell asleep. The last thing we need is for _him_ to make a break for it.” 

Alex immediately lowered her voice. “Sorry.” 

Sam grabbed his jacket. “I’ll be back.” The he left. 

Alex hurried into the basement. The panic room door was open, and Alex stepped inside to see the ever-familiar sigil drawn on the file cabinet. With a quiet sigh, she picked up a rag and wiped it off before tossing the rag out into the basement. “Dean, what did you do?” she asked herself quietly, stepping back into the rest of the basement. She glanced at the cellar door, shaking her head. 

When she returned to the main floor, Bobby was flipping through a book at his desk. Every once and a while, he’d glance at the sleeping man before returning to his reading. 

Alex sat down in the chair across from him, letting out a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Little past midnight.”

“Aren’t you tired?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Besides, my bed’s a little occupied.” Bobby didn’t even bother to look up, and Alex turned the chair so its back was facing Bobby. 

She straddled it, resting her head the backrest. “How are you doing?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? You’re not—”

“I said I’m fine.”

The conversation died. 

 

 **A** lex glanced over at Adam. Almost an hour had passed, and she rubbed her eyes, deciding it was best to return to bed. Sam still hadn’t called, which meant he hadn’t found Dean. And if he hadn't found him by this point . . . Alex shook of the thought. Dean was still safe. He hadn’t said ‘yes’ yet. He couldn’t have. She stood up. “I’m going to — what the hell?” She stared blankly at the empty bed. “Where’d he go?” She looked over at Bobby; he wore the same shocked expression. Adam was gone.

Bobby rolled over to the bed. “He just vanished. Right in front of my eyes.” He looked back at Alex. 

“S-Should we call Sam?” Alex tried to wrap her mind around what had happened. 

“And have him worry about this as well?” Bobby shook his head. “It can wait. Besides, it ain’t like he just got up and walked away. Something took him.” With that, he rolled into the kitchen.

“You seem pretty chill about this,” Alex called after him. “Considering Dean’s gone as well.”

The hunter didn’t even look back. “Right. Cause freaking out’s gonna solve anything.” 

Alex sat down on the bed. Just as she did, the door opened, and Sam walked through. He glanced at Alex on the bed, then did a double take. “What — Where’s Adam?” 

“He’s gone.” Bobby looked up at the Winchester, shifting his wheelchair so he was closer to the kitchen table. 

“Bobby, what do you mean he’s gone?” 

“Should I say it in Spanish?” 

“He’s gone how? What the hell, Bobby?!” Sam ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“Watch your tone, boy,” Bobby warned. “He was right in front of me, and he disappeared into thin air.”

A flutter of wings and the scattering of papers cut him off. Alex jumped to her feet as Castiel appeared. He was supporting a beaten and unconscious Dean. “Because the angels took him.” 

“What the hell happened to him?!” both Alex and Sam exclaimed. 

“Me.” Castiel dropped Dean on the bed. Alex immediately turned her attention to him, rolling his unconscious body so he was laying on his back. He was bleeding from his nose and a cut on his lip. There was also a small cut on his cheek. Nothing seemed too deep, and Alex suspected Castiel had knocked him out using his grace. 

“What do you mean, the angels took Adam?” Bobby asked as Alex hurried into the kitchen. “You branded his ribs, didn’t you?” 

“Yes. Adam must have tipped them off.” Castiel watched Alex returned to Dean with a wet washcloth. She gently wiped the blood away. 

“How?” Bobby tried to draw the angel’s attention back to him.

“I don’t know.” Castiel didn’t look away, eyes still focused on where Alex’s hand was resting on Dean’s cheek to steady his head. “Maybe in a dream.”

Sam asked, “Well, where would they have taken him?” 

“Better question.” Alex looked up at Cas. “What the hell did you do to him?” 

“Dean will be fine.” 

“Yeah, great. Did you still have to split his lip?”

“He was going to say ‘yes.’ I had to stop him.” Castiel took a step closer, eyes flashing.

Alex stood up, not backing down. “So you had to beat him up?” she spat. “He’s like our family, Cas —”

“Your family. Not mine.” 

Alex rolled her shoulders back, glaring up into the angel’s blue eyes. 

Sam stepped forward, placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Where did the angels take Adam?” he asked again quietly.

Alex angrily turned back to Dean, wiping away the new blood that trickled down his chin. There wasn’t much, which meant the cuts were already healing. Alex swallowed down her anger at the angel. It wasn’t helping the situation. Right now, they just needed to find Adam. 

“There’s a place,” Castiel began, turning away from Alex. “It’s where they kept Dean and Alex when the last seal was broken.” 

“That would make sense.” Alex stood up. “We should, uh, — let’s get Dean downstairs, okay? Before he wakes up.” 

Sam nodded. Together, he and Cas carried Dean down the stairs. Alex stepped towards the kitchen and threw the washcloth towards the sink. It landed on the counter next to it, and Alex counted it as good enough. She sat down on the bed. 

Bobby wheeled over to her. “You think it’s a good idea to be picking fights right now?” he asked quietly.

Alex didn’t respond. 

“I think we should.” Sam’s voice reached their ears, and Alex looked up. Castiel stalked into the room with the Winchester following close behind. “Look. I”m just saying, there’s going to be a lot of angels.”

“Where?” 

Castiel turned to Bobby. “Sam has the insane idea of taking Dean to go get Adam,” he growled. 

“What?” Bobby turned to Sam. “Are you crazy, boy? Do you _want_ the world to end?” 

“I don’t think Dean will say yes,” Sam insisted stubbornly.

“Oh, you don’t, do you? Then why did he run off, huh?” 

Sam shook his head, not knowing the answer. “He’ll make the right call,” he said. “I know he will. He has to.”

Alex looked over at Bobby. “I don’t think Dean will say yes,” she said quietly. “He doesn’t in the show. Michael takes Adam instead.”

“So you want to let him walk right into Michael’s hands?” Bobby snapped. “And just because you ‘don’t think he’ll say yes’?” 

Alex hesitated, choosing her next words carefully. “It’s Sam’s call,” she finally said. “He’s Dean’s brother. And if Dean says yes, Sam will have to deal with him.” 

“I’ll talk to Dean.” Before any of them could protest, Sam hurried back downstairs. 

Bobby wheeled back into the kitchen with a loud huff, and Alex heard the fridge swing open. She looked up at Castiel. “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier,” she muttered. “I was just worried about Dean.” 

“Dean was fine.”

Alex shook her head, massaging the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “Still.” 

Castiel disappeared, and Alex returned to bed. 

 

 **S** he awoke the next morning. Downstairs she found Sam and Dean sitting at the kitchen table. “You’re out.” Alex approached the Winchester. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m fine.” Dean pointed over to the stove. “Bacon.” 

“Ooh.” Alex took a piece for herself. “Yum.” 

“Good. You’re up.” Castiel appeared behind her. “We should be going.” 

 

**Van Nuys, California**

**T** he next second they were standing on a concrete road. Alex looked around, sticking the rest of her bacon into her mouth. A large abandoned warehouse stood to their right. Castiel started walking, and the humans hurried after him. “Where the hell are we?” Dean asked. 

“Van Nuys, California.” 

“Where’s the beautiful room?” 

“In there.” 

Dean turned his gaze to the building. “The beautiful room is in an abandoned muffler factory in Van Nuys, California?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. Alex grunted in complete agreement. 

“Where’d you think it was?” 

“He’s got a point,” Alex murmured, turning her gaze to the ground. 

“I don’t know. Jupiter? A blade of grass? Not Van Nuys.” Dean just shook his head. 

Sam huffed. “Tell me again why you don’t just grab Adam and shazam the hell out of there.” 

“Because there are at least five angels in there.” Castiel stopped by a wooden door and turned to face them. 

“So? You’re fast.”

“They’re faster.” Castiel stripped off his tie and wrapped it around his palm. 

Alex opened her mouth, but no words came out. She looked over at Sam and Dean to see the same confusion on their faces as to why the angel was undressing.

“I’ll clear them out,” Castiel continued. “You three grab the boy. This is our only chance.” 

“Whoa, what. You’re going to take on five angels?” 

“Yes.” 

“Isn’t that suicide?” 

“Maybe it is.” Castiel started to unbutton his shirt. “But then I won’t have to watch you fail. I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t have the same faith in you that Sam does.” The angel reached into his pocket and pulled out something with an bright orange handle. He slid the blade out, and Alex realized it was a large box cutter. 

“Cas!” Alex stepped forward, reaching for the blade. 

Castiel held it out of her grasp. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “If there was anything else I could do, I would do it.” He shoved his tie into his pocket and unbuttoned his white shirt. 

Alex watched in horror as the angel carved a large circle in his bare chest. "Is this really necessary?" she asked meekly when Castiel started on the large sigil. 

Castiel's face was twist in pain, and he stopped cutting before he answered. "This is the only way to get rid of the angels. At least this way I have a shot at surviving." He held Alex's gaze, asking a silent question. 

She nodded. “Yeah. I, uh . . . you should live." 

Castiel finished carving the smaller sigils around the circle, then began on the triangle. Alex winced as blood trickled down his chest, making the sigil almost illegible. He then turned to Sam and Dean. "As soon as the angels are gone, you two go in and find Adam."

"Wait." Alex stepped forward in confusion. "What about me?" 

"You're going to run." Castiel pointed away from the warehouse. "I don't want you to be hurt when I do this."

"How can I be hurt?" Alex scoffed. "That only works on angels." 

Castiel held her gaze for a second. Then he spoke. ”Alex. Two weeks ago Emmanuel healed you. It took an amazing amount of grace to bring you back. I . . . I'm worried that some of his grace latched on and hasn't yet dissipated. There might still be enough to hurt."

Alex hesitated, but the look in Castiel's eyes made her nod. "Okay. Fine. If you’re sure. I, I guess I’ll go stand over there." 

Castiel took hold of the warehouse door. He stopped, meeting Alex's gaze. "I'm sorry." Then he was gone. 

Alex reluctantly retreated away from the warehouse. She stood a hundred feet out, waiting. When nothing seemed to be happening, she stepped forward towards the Winchesters. "Shouldn't he be done by --" She was cut off as an invisible force seemed to sweep her off her feet. She hit the hard ground with a strangled cry, head spinning and a ringing in her ears. 

"Alex?" That was Sam, quickly approaching. 

"I'm fine." Alex dropped her head back onto the ground. "I, uh, sorry." She pulled herself to her feet and stumbled towards Sam. 

She tripped, and he reached out to steady her. "Whoa whoa whoa. Slow down." Sam held her still until she was steady again. "Maybe you should just sit down." 

Alex shook her head. "Adam's in there." She let Sam help her towards the warehouse. By the time they got to the front door, she had regained the ability to stand on her own two feet. Dean was already inside, and she followed close behind. 

In the center of the large, empty warehouse was a building. Alex guesstimated it to be maybe 15 by 30 feet. Dean opened the door, and she and him stepped inside. "Whoa." Alex looked around. "Talk about Timelord technology."

"What?" Dean let out a confused snort, looking over at her.

"Bigger on the inside." Alex looked around the spacious room. "Cool."

"No, no I got the reference--" Dean suddenly stopped talking and rushed across the room. He dropped to his knees. “Adam, hey. Hey.” He gently shook him. 

Adam looked up, eyes dull. “You came for me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re family.” 

“Dean,” Adam rasped, “it’s a trap.”

“I figured.” 

“Dean, please.” Alex spun around to see Zachariah standing there. She pulled her lip up into a snarl, but, with the flick of his hand, Alex found herself on the other side of the room, back flat against the wall. She slumped to the floor, dazed. The angel shook his head. “Did you really think it would be that easy?” 

“Did _you_?” At Dean’s words, Sam rushed past Alex, an angel blade in his hand. The angel spun around, narrowing avoiding Sam’s swing. With a quick move, he knocked the blade away and threw Sam back towards Alex. She pulled herself out of the way as the Winchester hit the wall right above where she had been. “Sam!” 

“You know what I’ve learned from this experience, Dean?” Zachariah turned back to the eldest Winchester. “Patience.” He waved his hand casually, and Alex heard Adam let out a wet cough. 

“Adam?” Dean looked down at his half-brother before glaring at the seraphim. “Turn him back, you son of a bitch.” 

The angel continued as if Dean had never spoke. “I mean, I thought I was downsized for sure. And for us, a firing . . . pretty damn literal. But I should have trusted the boss man. It’s all playing out like he said . . . You, me, your hemorrhaging brothers.” He turned to Sam, raising a fist. Sam doubled over, coughing, and Alex watched as thick red blood dripped from his mouth.

“You son of a bitch.” Alex pulled herself to her feet, stepping towards the seraphim.  

“Alex,” Dean warned. 

Zachariah turned to Alex, studying her. “Take one more step, and I’ll take away those lungs of yours again,” he warned. “And this time, I won’t put them back.” 

Alex stopped. She backed down, letting an angry breath of air out from her nose. Sam coughed again, this time more violently, and Alex retreated to his side. 

The angel returned his attention to Dean. “You’re finally ready, right? You know there’s no other choice. There’s never been a choice.” 

Alex looked up to see Dean look between Adam and Sam. Sam coughed again, and his arms gave out. Alex reached out to catch him before his face hit the floor. “Stop it,” Dean finally snapped. “Stop it right now!” 

“In exchange for what?” 

“Damn it, Zachariah. Stop it, please. I’ll do it.” 

The angel didn’t stop. “I’m sorry. What was that?” 

“Okay, yes.” Dean broke. “The answer is yes.” 

“Dean!” Sam insisted weakly. Alex looked up at her friend, eyes wide. Dean wasn’t suppose to say yes. Michael couldn’t have Dean. 

“Do you hear me?” Dean yelled. “Call Michael down, you bastard!” 

Zachariah took a step closer to Dean. “How do you know you’re not lying?” 

“Do I look like I’m lying?” 

The angel clicked his fingers, and Sam dropped his head. Alex looked down, worried. “Sam!” 

Sam nodded, arms giving out. His head fell into Alex’s lap, and, once she made sure he was still alive, Alex looked back up at the angel. He was faced away from them and Dean, looking up towards the ceiling. “ _Zo di re do . . . ab era mage . . .na zod pe sad de_.”

Sam managed to raise his head. Dean turned to look at them, and he held his brother’s gaze for several seconds. Then he winked. Alex blinked in confusion. He winked. Was this a trap?

“Of course,” Dean said, turning back to the seraphim, “I have a few conditions.”

“What?” The angel turned back to him.

“The few people whose safety you have to guarantee before I say yes.”

“Sure, fine.” Zachariah shrugged. “Make a list.” 

“But most of all . . . Michael can’t have me until he disintegrates you.” 

_That_ stopped the angel in his tracks. “What did you say?” 

“I said . . . before Michael gets ones piece of this sweet ass,” Dean stepped closer to Zachariah, eyes flashing, “. . . he has to turn you into a piece of charcoal.”

“You really think Michael’s gonna go for that?” 

“Who’s more important to him now? You . . . or me?” By now, Dean was standing almost nose to nose with the seraph. 

“You listen to me,” Zachariah growled. “You are nothing but a maggot inside a worm’s ass. Do you know who I am . . . after I deliver you to Michael?” 

“Expendable.” 

“Michael’s not going to kill me.”

“Maybe not. But I am.” Dean suddenly pulled an angel blade out of his jacket. In one swift motion, he buried the blade up through Zachariah’s chin. The angel’s face exploded into white light, and Dean fell backwards. 

White light started to pour the cracks of the door, and an ear-piercing noise filled the room. “Dean!” Alex yelled, stumbling to her feet. 

“Can you walk?” she heard Dean ask Adam over the noise. She thought she heard an affirmative answer to that, and she turned to Sam. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Dean help Adam to his feet before hurrying over to help Alex with Sam. “Come on!” Dean yelled. “Move it!” Alex threw open the door and dashed through. Sam and Dean followed. Then the door slammed closed. 

Alex stopped. “Adam!” She tried to open the door, but she let go with a cry as the door glowed white and the handle burned her skin. 

“No!” she heard Adam yell. “Dean! Help! It won’t open!” 

Dean was at Alex’s side in an instant. He tried the door, but was burned as well.

“Dean, help!” There was a thud as Adam pounded on the door. “Dean!” 

“Hold on!” Dean yelled back. “We’ll get you out. Just hold on. Adam!” Can you hear me?!” 

The building glowed a harsh white, and Alex shied away, the light too bright for her eyes. Then it faded. When Alex looked back, Dean had thrown open the door and had rushed inside. She followed, then stopped dead. It was a completely different room, and now looked like just an abandoned office.

“Adam?” 

“Dean.” Sam staggered over to them. “Where is he?”

Dean reached out to steady his brother. “He’s gone.” 

 

 **March 14th, 2010**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**T** wo days later, Alex found herself standing back in the study at Bobby’s. Sam and Dean were talking to the hunter in hushed voices. Alex sat on the bed, staring out the window, not interested in their topic at hand. 

“Alex.” Dean walked over to her. “Me and Sam are going to head out. See if we can find anyway to find Adam and stop this thing.”

“We’ve been looking for six months.”

“Yeah, well. We’re going to try and talk to people like Pamela. Psychics, hoodoo people, the works.” He glanced back towards Bobby. “Bobby wants you to stay with him for a while. Maybe you and him can find something in those books of his.” 

“We’ve looked a million times,” Alex scoffed. 

Dean sighed, and lowered his voice. “Keep an eye on him, okay? I’m worried.”

Alex let out a long breath, turning her gaze back to the window. “Don’t worry,” she promised. “I’ll take care of him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Just fyi, I won't be posting another chapter tomorrow as I'm going camping with my friends. I'll be back Saturday.


	46. Hammer of the Gods

**April 6th, 2010**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**A** lex rolled off of the couch with a groan. Her eyes hurt, and still she had found nothing. “Ugh.” She hit the ground and stared up at the ceiling, eyes unblinking. 

“Busy?” 

Alex looked up. “Didn’t hear you come in.” 

Dean walked up to her, nudging her shoulder with his toe. “Twelve states, two dozen people, and nothing. No one know anything.” He sat down on the floor beside her, back resting against the couch. “You sure you don’t know how to stop this?”

“I told you. In the show, Michael goes against Lucifer as Adam. We get them into the cage with the horsemen’s rings. That’s all I know. I don’t know any way around it.” She looked over at the Winchester. “I’m not lying.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” 

“Where’s Sam?” Alex looked around. The Winchesters had been gone for almost an entire _month_ , and still none of them had any handle on the impending apocalypse. Even more distressing was that there was now sign of Castiel, and Alex couldn’t It wasn’t long before Michael and Lucifer faced off in the final battle. Alex could feel it. They had a month; maybe less, and by the look in Dean’s eyes, she knew he felt the same way. 

“He’s in town.” Dean held out his hand. “Grabbing some beer. Bobby said you’re out.”

“We are.” Alex reluctantly stood and walked over to the fridge. She pulled out a two liter of Mountain Dew and unscrewed the cap. “I haven’t been in town in a few days.” She took a long sip. “It’s been a long couple weeks.” 

“Yeah. Tell me about it.” 

Bobby rolled into the study. “Where’s Sam?”   
“He’s not back yet.”

“Well tell him to hurry up.” 

Dean just snorted. He leaned against the kitchen counter, studying the housebound hunter. “How are you doing, by the way?” 

“How do you think?” Bobby snapped. “I’ve been working my ass off.” 

“I know, Bobby. We have too.” Dean leaned against the counter with a sigh. “I haven’t slept in days.” 

“You gonna see Moseley?” 

Dean shook his head. “Not yet. We’re working our way over there.” 

“Well, you should.” Bobby rolled over to the fridge and tugged it open. He leaned forward and pulled out one of Alex’s shrink wrapped sandwiches. “She’s one of the best, boys.”

The front door opened, and Sam stepped through. He dropped a grocery bag on the table. 

“About time,” the old hunter grumbled, pulling a bottle of whiskey out. 

“Bobby thinks we should talk to Moseley,” Dean told his brother. 

Sam nodded as he connected the name to the face. “Yeah, uh, yeah. That’s a good idea.” 

“Can I come?” Alex looked up at the Winchester. “I’d be nice to get out of the house for once.”

When Dean looked down at Bobby, the hunter grunted. “Fine by me. Not like we’ve found anything.” He poured himself a glass of whiskey. “And I can do without her nagging.”

“You can’t live off of grilled cheese and scotch!” Alex snapped. “I mean, come on.”

“See what I mean?” 

“Fine. She can come.” 

 

Muncie, Indiana 

**T** he night sky was dark by the time Dean pulled the Impala off into the parking lot of a hotel. "Dude. We should keep going," Sam told him. "It's only 9 o'clock." 

"No way, man," Dean protested. "This place looks amazing.” With a glance out the window, he added, “Besides. I can barely see the road. This storm is apocalyptic.” He looked over at his brother. “You seriously want me to drive in this?” 

Alex snorted at his choice of words. She looked out the windshield. _Elysian Fields Motel_. She furrowed her brow. It sounded familiar. She shook the feeling off. She was far too tired. To prove it, she yawned. Rain pounded on the metal roof above her head, its rhythmic beat threatening to lull her into sleep. "Here's the plan. Get out, grab out stuff." Dean opened the door. "Then run for it." Alex did as he said, pulling her jacket up over her head before throwing open the door and hurrying after the hunter. She grabbed her bag out of the trunk, and took off toward the hotel. Sam followed. They burst through the doors, soaking wet, hair plastered to her scalp. 

"Whew." Dean let out a long breath, looking around. "Nice digs, for once." He led the way over to the front desk. "Busy night." He leaned against the desk, watching the man.

"Any port in the storm, I guess." The man at the desk let out a chuckle. He slid Dean a form. "If you could just fill this out, please." 

"Yeah," Dean complied. Alex studied the man. Tall, short dark hair, with a black bow tie and a name tag: Chet. He looked old, but in good health. 

"Sir, I think you got a little," he motioned to Dean's neck, "shaving nick here." He held out a tissue. Dean looked confused, but held the tissue against his neck. When he pulled it away, there was a spot of blood. He glanced at Sam. "Your key." The man held out a room key. 

"Oh, thanks." Dean took it. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a coffee shop, would you?" 

"Buffet," Chet informed them. "All you can eat. Best pie in the tri-state area." He motioned to their left. 

"You don't say," Dean smiled. He looked to his left, contemplating to himself, but then decisively led them up to their room. "Food next," he promised. 

 

 **T** hey quickly changed into drier clothes. Alex used a towel to semi-dry her hair before taking a seat on the bed. Eventually Dean came out of the bathroom. He pulled on a clean jacket, glancing at Alex. "Hungry?" 

"Of course." Alex stood up, following him down the stairs and into the buffet. She heard Sam follow them, running to catch up. Dean immediately went to the pie; not that Alex was surprised. She took a plate and filled it with several egg rolls. 

She walked over to a far table, Dean following close behind. Suddenly she felt him stop and backtrack, and looked around to see him stop beside a woman. Black hair cascaded down her dark skin, stopping at the top of a red sleeveless blouse. "How you doing?" Dean asked, letting out one of his charming smiles. 

“No.”

Dean looked blank. "But . . ." 

"No," she repeated. 

"Oh, lady, I'm just, you know . . ." 

"I understand. And no." 

Dean searched for something to say. But he found nothing, so conceded with a, "Yeah." He walked away. 

"Shut down," Alex joked quietly. 

"Shut up," Dean glared at her. He sat down next to Sam. Alex pulled up a chair. Sam was intently studying his phone. 

"Sam." Dean glanced at his brother's uneaten plate. "Unpucker, man. Eat something." As if to emphasis his point, he took a bite of pie. 

"We should hit the road, Dean." Sam didn't look up. 

"In this storm?" Dean scoffed. "It's . . ." 

"Biblical," Sam finished. "Exactly. It's friggin Noah's ark out there, and we're eating pie." 

"Pie is good," Alex protested light-heartedly. 

Dean gave her a nod of approval. "How many hours of sleep did you get this week?" he asked his brother. "What? Three? Four? Bobby's got his feelers out, okay? We have talked with every hoodoo man and root woman in twelve states." 

"Yeah, well, I'm not giving up." 

"Nobody's giving up. Especially me. We're gonna find a way to stop the devil okay?" He glanced at Alex, who didn't answer. "Okay?" he repeated, this time more pointedly. 

"Yeah, okay," Alex nodded. "Totally." 

"And soon," Dean added. "I can feel it. And we'll find Cas, and we'll find Adam. But you're no good to me burnt out." 

He held Sam's gaze for several long seconds. "Yeah, yeah okay," Sam finally relented. 

"Come on. We've actually got the night off for once. Let's try and enjoy it." Dean picked back up his fork, concentrating on his pie. 

They sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Alex finished her plate, and went back for seconds. Even Sam found the appetite, nibbling on his corn-on-the-cob. When they finished, they headed back to their room. Dean reached in his pocket for the keys, stopping when he glanced to his left. Alex followed his gaze to see a young couple heavily making out. Dean smiled. 

"Oh, what are you, twelve?" Sam shook his head at his brother's immaturity. 

"I'm young at heart," Dean joked back. He opened the door and stepped in, walking over to the bed, with a whistle. "I still can't get over how nice this place is. We're like Rockafellers." He stopped over by the beds. "Chocolates!" he exclaimed, picking up the small chocolate that sat on the pillow. "You want yours?" he asked his brother. 

"Knock yourself out." 

“Whoa,” Dean turned his attention elsewhere. “Casa Erotica 13 on demand." 

Sam scoffed, and Alex rolled her eyes. "Pie, chocolate, porn, it's like heaven for you, isn't it?" 

"What?" Dean pretended to look offended. 

"I don't know, Dean," Sam began. "Isn't this place in the middle of nowhere?" 

"So?" Dean shrugged it off. 

"So what's a four star hotel doing on a no star highway?" Sam posed the question. Alex nodded at his very good point. Even Dean went silent for a few seconds. 

In that silence, they could hear the couple in the other room, accompanied by several thumps. Followed by a very loud crash, so forceful it actually shifted the bricks in the wall out of place. Alex jumped, and both Sam and Dean froze. Dean tossed the chocolate back onto the bed, and they hurried into the other room, Alex following closely. Sam threw open the door, stepping inside. He stopped cold, Dean beside him. Alex wiggled her way between them to see the room. It was dark, and absolutely nothing was out of place. She frowned, confused. 

"Hello?" Dean called. With a nod to Sam, he stepped farther into the room. 

Sam veered off, looking into the bathroom. "Hello?" 

Alex watched Dean look around the room. Something sparkled on the ground, and she knelt down, picking up a wedding ring. "Dean?" She held it up. 

Dean took it, and Sam came over to them. He and Dean exchanged a confused glance, and, without a word, quickly hurried out of the room. Alex followed, closing the door behind her. She followed, searching her minds for facts. Something pricked at the back of her neck, and she flinched, reaching up to feel it. When she drew her fingers away, there was blood. Alex looked behind her, eyebrows furrowed. That wasn’t right. She continued on her way, perplexed. 

She reached the front desk a minute later to see Dean and Sam already there. 

"They checked out," Chet was saying. Alex narrowed her eyes. Something was in the back of her mind, gnawing away at her memories. But she couldn't place it. 

"They checked out?" Dean asked, unconvinced. 

"Mmm-hmm," Chet confirmed. "Just now." 

"Really? It kinda seemed like, like they were in the middle of something." Sam ended with a slight chuckle. 

"Yeah," Dean added, "It's kinda weird for honeymooners to check out with out this." He held up the wedding ring. 

"Oh dear." Chet gently took the ring from Dean's fingers. "I'll just put that right here in the lost and found. Is there anything else I can help you with?" 

Suddenly it all clicked. Alex inhaled sharply at the realization. She silently cursed herself. She was getting slow. Well, it had been two years since she had seen the show. _That's no excuse_ , she hissed to herself. 

"No, we're good." Dean and Sam started to walk away, but Alex remained where she was. Chet turned to look at her, and she confidently met his gaze.

"Hey, quick question," Alex casually approached the front desk. "And, I might be wrong, but you look like the type of guy who would know the answer." 

"Sure," Chet smiled kindly. "Shoot." 

"On the ride here, I was reading this book about Greek and Roman mythology," she explained innocently. "And I was reading about, well, about Hermes, and, from what I understand, he's the Greek equivalent to Mercury. So I was wondering, are they the same guy, or, are they like two separate people?" She narrowed her eyes, evaluating his reaction. From what she remembered, he _was_ Mercury. 

"I'm not sure," Chet smiled, but his eyes revealed nervousness. "I believe they are two different gods." 

"Ah, well thank you." Alex turned to leave. "You've given me a lot to think about." With that, she stalked off. 

She rejoined Dean and Sam. "I'll scope out the joint, and you keep an eye on Norman Bates over there," Dean was saying. "I mean, one night off, is that too much to ask?" he complained, stomping off. Alex followed him. He got into the elevator, and Alex stood next to him. "You know what's going on?" he asked tiredly. 

"Possibly," Alex replied slowly. "Not completely confident yet though. But if this is what I think it is . . ." She trailed off. "Dean? Something's going to happen. And you need to listen to me one hundred percent. No questions, no hesitation." 

The older hunter looked worried. "What's going to happen?" 

"I can't tell you. Not yet. But when the time comes, you'll know it. Promise to do what I say?" Their conversation was cut short as the elevator door opened. Dean looked out her, let out a tiny nod, then pulled his EMF detector out of his pocket, taking the lead. Alex let him. They slowly made their way down the hallway. The passed an open door, and Alex froze at the sound of a loud noise. Alex swore it was an elephant’s trumpet. And even stranger, out of the corner of her eyes, she could have sworn she had also seen an elephant, but when they backed up to look, they saw a large, black man, towel wrapped around his waist. 

"This ain't no peep show, man!" he exclaimed, roughly closing the door. Alex and Dean exchanged glances. 

"Yeah. I know what's going on. Hell of a night we're in for," she mumbled. "We should go find Sam." 

"Yeah." Dean hurried off down the hall, Alex at his heels. They found Sam headed back to the lobby. Alex frowned.

"Where's Bates?" she asked. 

"Dunno." Sam frowned. "He disappeared. What about you guys? Find anything?" 

Dean glanced at Alex. "Well, we thought we saw an elephant." 

“ _I_ saw an elephant," Alex collaborated. 

"An elephant?" 

"Yeah." 

"Like, an elephant?"

"Like full-on Babar." They reached the lobby. It had changed from the bustling room it have been only a few minutes ago, and was now completely empty. 

"So what the hell is . . .” Sam paused, looking around. "Where is everybody?" He walked over to the lobby doors. They didn't budge. 

"Let me guess,” Dean said dryly. "It's locked. So what? Roaches check in, they don't check out?" 

"But think about how we got here," Sam realized. "The detour on I-90? The friggin hurricane?" 

"You're saying we were lead here?" 

"Like rats in a maze." 

Dean looked back at Alex, who shrugged innocently. "How was I suppose to know?” she defended. “I only figured out what's going on a few minutes ago." 

"You can start by telling us what's going on," Sam suggested, voice edging on irritation. 

"Patience." Alex chastised. "I'm still not totally sure yet." She turned around. "We could start by finding the other guests." 

"And where would they be?" Dean asked. 

"Think about it," she encouraged them. "Where would they usually end up?" 

"Cellar?" 

"Locked room?" 

"Kitchen?"

"Bingo." Alex pointed a finger at Sam. She watched them hurry off towards the hotel kitchen, following more slowly. 

Dean looked down into a boiling pot. ”Please let this be tomato soup. Please let this be tomato soup,” he whispered. He moved the ladle that was sitting in a large pot on the stove. He grimaced. "Motel hell." Alex looked over his shoulder to see eyeballs floating in the pot. She flinched away at the sight. 

"Help us!" she heard a man yell, and turned to see Sam standing by the walk-in freezer. A man was in the window, looking pleadingly out. "Get us out!" 

Sam looked back at Dean and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his lock-picking kit, kneeling down.

Alex and Dean hurried over to him. Alex looked into the freezer to see at least a dozen people, all wearing the same terrified expression. She smiled at them. _We’ll get you out_ , she mouthed to them. Behind her, Dean insisted, “Hurry up!” 

"I'm going as fast as I . . . as I can." Sam looked over at Dean and trailed off. Alex turned around, and her breath caught in her throat. 

Dean let out a small sigh. ”There's somebody behind me, isn't there?”

"Two somebodies, actually," Alex corrected. Sam nudged her fiercely with his elbow, effectively silencing her. 

Rough hands grabbed Dean, and dragged him backwards. The second man reached for Alex, but she slipped out of his grasp, holding up her hands in innocence.” Take Sam here,” she suggested. “I’ll follow behind quietly.” When the man grabbed Sam, yet continued to move towards her, she hurried closer to where Dean had gone. “Please.” Despite their situation, Alex somehow managed to roll her eyes nonchalantly. “Where am I going to go?” With that, she stalked off after Dean and his captor. 

They were led down the hall and into the main dining hall. Three tables were set up in a “U” formation, and each table held several people. Alex glanced around. Each guest wore a name-tag, each with their individual names. Odin, Baldur, Kali, Ganesh. "Hey, Sammy. How's your knowledge of pagan gods?" she whispered. 

"Something tells me this isn't the Shriner convention," Dean said at the same time. 

Chet, who had now changed his name to Mercury, wheeled out a large food cart. "Dinner is served," he announced, revealing a tray of meat. Alex curled her lip in disgust as she realized what kind of meat it was. Human. Liver, intestines; all kinds of inner organs lay neatly arranged on a platter, and in the center, a human head. 

Dean let out a sickening sound. Alex was about to make a witty comment when bright lights sought them out. "Ladies and gentlemen," she heard Baldur say, "Our guests of honor." 

Both Dean and Sam froze. Alex racked her brain, trying to remember exactly what happened when. She gave up. Three chairs were pulled up, and Alex took a seat, indicating Sam and Dean should do the same. Dean sat next to her, Sam on the other side. The other people in the room took their seats, chatting excitedly. 

Finally Baldur stood up, gently hitting his champagne glass with his fork. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, and the other guests went silent. "Thank you for coming. Although in all my centuries, I never thought I'd see this. So many gods under one roof." 

"Gods?" Sam hissed. Alex nodded. She'd tried to tell him. 

"But before we get down to brass tacks, some ground rules," the pagan god continued. "No slaughtering each other. Curb your wrath. Oh, and uh, keep your hands off the local virgins. We're trying to keep a low profile here." A few of the other gods laughed, and Alex chuckled as well. Well, that saved her ass.

"Oh, we are so, so screwed," Sam muttered unhappily to his brother. 

"Now we all know why we're here. The Judeo-Christian apocalypse looms over us. I know you've all had your little disagreements in the past. The time has come to put those aside and look towards the future. Because if we don't, we won't have one. Now we have to very valuable bargaining chips. Michael and Lucifer's vessels. The question is, what do we do now? Anybody have any bright ideas? Speak up. This is a safe room." 

One of the pagan gods stood up. Alex didn't recognize the language, but she suspected it to Mandarin, judging by the look of the god and his name, Zao Shen. He ended by yelling something. 

"Oh, I don't like his tone," Dean whispered to them. Alex let out a huff of laughter. 

Ganesh laughed. "Kill them? What, so the angels can bring them back again?" 

"I don't know what everybody's getting so worked up about!" Odin exclaimed. "Cause it's just a couple of angels having a slap fight. There's no Armageddon. Everybody knows when the world come to and end, the Great Serpent Jormungandr rises up, and I myself will be eaten by a big wolf!" He ended with a short laugh. Zeo Shen responded, but Odin cut him off. "Oh yeah? And why's that? Because your beliefs are so realistic? The whole worlds getting carried around on the back of a giant turtle? Ha! Give me a break." 

Zeo Shen shot a string of words back at him. Alex just laughed. "World turtle," she whispered at the Winchesters. 

"What are you going to do about?" Odin challenged. The Chinese pagan god said something back. "You watch your mouth when you talk to me, boy." 

Alex watched the two gods interact. However, she quickly found herself uninterested, only understanding half of the conversation. She sighed, slumping down in her chair. Dean nudged her, motioning for them to leave. She nodded understandingly. She silently slipped out of her chair and followed Sam and Dean towards the door. There was a _whoosh_ , and a crystal chandelier crashed at their feet. All three of them froze. 

"Stay," Alex heard Kali command. They turned around, but made no move to sit back down. Kali looked around at the other pagan gods. "We have to fight," she said, her voice clear and smooth. "The archangels. The only thing they understand in violence. This ends it blood. It's either them, or us." 

Mercury spoke up. "With all due respect, ma'am, we haven't even tried talking to them." Kali’s eyes flashed, and she glared down at him. As Alex watched, the god started to choke. He frantically loosened his bow-tie, trying to find some point of relief, but there was none. 

Finally Baldur spoke up. "Kali." He snapped the Hindu god out of her concentration. 

"Who asked you?" Kali released Mercury, and he sucked in a deep breath of air. 

Behind them, Alex heard the doors swing open. "Can't we all just get along?" Alex spun around, relief flooding through her. When she saw Gabriel, she let out a broad smile. Beside her, both Dean and Sam just looked shocked. 

The archangel wore a button-down burgundy shirt under a faded green military jacket, the sleeves slightly too long for his arms. His light brown hair was slicked back from his face. 

Dean opened his mouth. "Ga . . ." he started, but Gabriel flicked a hand at him, cutting him off. Sam just stared. 

"Hey, Z." He smiled at Alex, and she grinned back. "Sam, Dean," the angel addressed the two hunters. "It's always wrong time, worst place with you muttonheads, huh?" 

"Loki." Baldur rose to greet the new arrival. 

"Baldur. Good seeing you too. I guess my invitation got lost in the mail." He frowned, a darker meaning behind his light words.

"Why are you here?" the Norse god persisted. 

"To talk about the elephant in the room." Ganesh started to stand up, opening his mouth to protest, but Gabriel cut him off. "Not you." Alex let out a small laugh at his joke, and Gabriel shot her a smile. "The apocalypse. We can't stop it, gang. But first things first." He turned to Alex and the Winchesters. "The adults need to have a little conversation. Check you later." 

He snapped his fingers, and Alex found herself back up in their hotel room. Both Sam and Dean looked speechless. Alex sat down on the bed. "O-okay. Did, did that . . ." Dean stammered, trying to find his voice. "Holy crap!" 

"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam seemed to be having just as hard a time. "Oh, and next time I say keep driving, let's keep driving!" 

"Alright. Next time." Dean ran his hand through his hair. 

"What's are next move?" Sam asked Alex. 

"Don't worry. I've got a plan." Alex hoped she sounded more convincing then she actually was. 

"Oh, yeah? And what does that include?" Dean asked, slightly pissed. He started to form his own plan. "We need to get those poor saps out of the freezer. Maybe gank a few freaks on the way out if we're lucky? . ." He trailed off. 

"And when are you ever lucky?" Gabriel asked. Alex turned to look at the archangel, who was sitting casually on the couch. 

"Well, you know what, bite me Gabriel," Dean said dryly. 

"Maybe later, big boy." 

"I should have known." Dean approached. "I mean, this had your stink all over it from the jump."

"You think I'm behind this?" Gabriel seemed surprised. He stood up, walking slowly over to Dean. "Please. I'm the Costner to your Houston. I'm here to save your ass." 

"We don't need you to save our ass," Dean shot back. "Alex has a plan." 

"Really?" Gabriel looked at Alex. "Well, let's here it, Z."

"Z?" Sam looked from Gabriel to Alex. His question remained unanswered. 

Alex crossed her arms. "Sure." She looked at the archangel. "You're my plan." 

"I'm your plan?" Gabriel looked very much surprised. However, the shock was quickly gone, and he turned smugly to Dean.

Alex nodded. ”That's what I said."

Dean snorted angry. "Great plan, Pip." He turned back to Gabriel. "So what, you want to pull us out of the fire?" 

"Bingo. These guys are either going to dust you, or use you as bait. Either way, you're uber-boned." 

"Wow, 'cause a couple of months ago, you were telling us we need to 'play our roles.' You're uber-boning us!" 

"Oh, the end is still nigh. Michael and Lucifer are still going to dance the lambada, but not tonight. Not here." He stalked past Dean and Sam to stand a few feet away. 

"And why do you care?" Dean challenged him. Alex shifted on the bed, brining her knees up to her chest. 

"I don't care. But, me and Kali, we, uh, had a thing." Gabriel shrugged. "The chick was all hands. What can I say? I'm sentimental." Alex studied her knees, unprepared for the slight tinge of jealousy that sparked in her stomach. She narrowed her eyes, very much confused at the feeling, even if it was small. There was no way in hell she liked Gabriel. Not even a little bit. No. Stop it. _Stop it, dammit._

"Do they have a chance?" Sam spoke up. "Against Satan?" 

Alex let out a snort. "Really, Sammy?" Dean asked. 

"You got a better idea, Dean?" 

"It's a bad idea. Lucifer's going to turn them into finger paint," Gabriel told them. Alex nodded in agreement. "So let's get going while the going's good, hmm?" 

"Okay, great. Then why don't you just zap us outta here, then?" 

"Would if I could, but Kali's got you by the short and curlies. It's a blood spell. You guys are on a leash." 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means it's time for a bit of old black magic." The archangel pulled out a small bottle of mouth-spray. Alex rolled her eyes.

"Okay, yeah. Well, whatever. Well, we're going to take the hors d'oeuvres in the freezer with us." 

"Forget it," Gabriel scoffed. "It's gonna be hard enough sneaking you mooks out of here." 

"Fine. They called you Loki, right? Which means they don't know who you really are." 

"Told you. I'm in witness protection." 

“Okay.” Dean nodded, then approached, “Well then, why don't you do what we say, or we tell, uh, the legion of doom about your secret identity. They don't seem like a pro-angel kind of crowd." 

Gabriel looked at Alex. "I see you've been a bad influence on them," he said dryly. He turned back to Dean. "I'll take your voices away." 

"We'll write it down." 

"I'll cut off your hands." 

"Well then, people are going to be asking, 'why are you guys running around with no hands?' " 

Gabriel looked from Dean to Sam. Seeing they were serious, he sighed. "Fine." He disappeared. 

"Z?" Sam asked again. 

Alex shrugged. "He came up with it." 

"How?" 

"Dunno. Can we go free the freezer-people?" She started towards the door. "Probably should grab out stuff." Sam grunted in agreement, and they grabbed their bags. 

She led them out of their room and down into the lobby, carefully checking every corner for any signs of the pagan gods. However, it was all clear. They carefully stepped into the open. 

A man screaming was the only warning that there was trouble. Sam and Dean quickly hid behind a protruding wall, and Alex quickly followed. She glanced back to see a man being dragged into the room by four gods. She quickly recognized Odin and Zeo Shen, but was pulled back into the wall by Sam before she could place the other two. "Stay," he whispered. 

"No, no, no!" the man was begging desperately. "No! Please!" His screams were silenced by the horrible sound of a large knife sinking into flesh. Alex squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the white terror shooting up her spine. Trying to ignore to man's screams that were still resounding through her mind. 

"It's too late," she heard Sam whisper to Dean, and she unconsciously shuffled closer to Sam, pressing her shoulder against his arm, finding comfort in the hunter's solidness. 

There they waited, waiting for a chance to run. Finally, several minutes later, Dean gave the okay. "They're gone," he whispered, dropping his duffle bag. They did the same, and Dead led them quickly into the kitchen. Sam immediately hurried over the freezer, pulling out his lock picking kit. Dean and Alex stood careful watch. 

Suddenly, Alex felt someone grab the back of her jacket, and the ground disappeared from beneath her feet. The next second, both she and Dean hit the metal shelf behind them. Alex struggled to her feet to see Zeo Shen holding Sam against the freezer, hand at his throat. She glanced back at Dean, who was pulling himself to his feet as well. She watched him pull a wooden stake out of his jacket, launching himself at the god, sinking the stake into his back. Zeo Shen fell to the ground, dead. 

"Lucky that worked," Alex pointed out dryly. Not every pagan god could be killed with a wooden stake. 

"What are you talking about?" Dean hurried over the help Sam. 

"You serious?" Alex asked. "You got lucky that that stake killed him. Imagine if it didn't." She left it at that, because in that next second, the doors were thrown open, and two gods burst through. Seeing the dead Zeo Shen, and the three of them near the prisoners, they roughly grabbed them and dragged them out of the kitchen. They were dragged into the ballroom, and roughly thrown into their seats. Alex pointedly took the chair closest to the despondent Gabriel, giving him a smile. Dean sat next to her. 

"How's the rescue going?" Dean asked the angel. 

Gabriel didn't respond, but flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Good plan," he whispered to Alex. 

"Yes, it is," she responded. 

"Well, surprise, surprise." Kali spoke to the rest of the pagan gods. "The Trickster has tricked us." 

"Kali, don't." 

"You're mine now," Kali whispered, sitting down so she was straddling Gabriel's lap. "And you have something I want." She trailed her hand down his chest. Alex glanced away, finding it amusing that everyone else had diverted their eyes as well. Alex looked back to see Kali pull something out of Gabriel's jacket. She quickly recognized it as an angel blade. "An archangel's blade." Kali showed the other gods. "From the archangel, Gabriel." 

"Okay, okay. So I got wings, like Kotex. But that doesn't make me any less right about Lucifer." 

"He's lying. He's a spy." 

Gabriel’s eyes flashed with desperation. “I'm not a spy. I'm a runaway. I'm trying to save you. I know my brother, Kali. He should scare the living crap out of you. You can't beat him," Gabriel begged. "I've skipped ahead, seen how the story ends." 

"Your story. Not ours." Kali cut him off. "Westerns. I swear. The sheer arrogance. You think you are the only ones on earth? You pillage and you butcher in your God's name." Her voice cracked in quiet pain, but she found strength to continue. "But you're not the only religion, and he's not the only God. And know you think you can just rip this planet apart? You're wrong. There are billions of us. And we were here first. If anyone gets to end this world, it's me." She leaned close to Gabriel, lightly touching his cheek. "I'm sorry." 

At those words, Alex narrowed her eyes in confusion. _Sorry for what?_ Then she saw it. _Oh. Right._ Before she had time to react, Kali had thrust the blade into Gabriel's heart. His face filled with pure shock, before a white light crept up his throat. The archangel threw his head back in a cry of pain as the light shot out of his eyes and mouth, burning with an unnatural light. Alex squinted her eyes, unwilling to watch, but unable to tear her eyes away. The light faded, and Gabriel fell back in the chair, limp. Shock flashed through Alex, and it took her several seconds for her to remind herself that he wasn't actually dead. She turned to look at Dean and Sam, seeing the expression on their faces the same as she had just worn. There was complete silence. 

"This is crazy," Mercury finally whispered. 

"They can die. We can kill Lucifer." 

Dean suddenly stood up. "Alright, you primitive screwheads. Listen up." 

"Are you out of your mind?" Sam whispered angrily to his brother. He looked at Alex. "We had a plan, Dean." 

"No, Alex had a plan. Gabriel. Now he's dead, and I'm out of options. Now." He turned his attention back to the gods before him, walking around towards Alex. "On any other given day, I'd be doing my damnedest to, uh, kill you. You filthy, murdering chimps. But, hey, desperate times." He stopped by Gabriel's body before turning towards the drink table. "So, even though I'd love nothing better that to slit your throats, you dicks, I'm gonna help you ice the devil." Alex glanced over at Sam to see his face blank with shock. Dean continued. "And then we can all get back to ganking each other like normal. Guy's not in the yellow pages. But me and Sam, we can get him here." Dean stood behind Alex, putting his hands comfortingly on her shoulders. 

"How?" Kali asked. 

"First, you let those main courses go," Dean ordered. "Then we talk. Either we can take on the devil together, or you lame-ass bitches can eat me." He paused. "Literally." 

Kali remained silent for several seconds. "Fine," she finally decided. She motioned to one of the gods, who walked off into the kitchen. "Now we talk." 

"No way. Not until I personally see them safely outside." Dean walked off after the god, and Alex followed, leaving Sam behind. She heard screaming coming towards her, and knew the people had been freed. She stopped in the lobby, and turned to see a wave of bodies heading towards her. Dean held open the door. "Come on everybody!" he yelled. "Let's go let's go let's go let's go let's go!" He followed them out into the parking lot, carrying their bags. Alex watched from inside. Suddenly she frowned as she watched Dean get into the Impala. He wasn't leaving was he? He can't leave. She watched for a while, trying to figure out what was going on. That's when she saw movement from inside. _Gabriel. Right._ Alex walked out and got into the passenger side seat. 

"They just stabbed me in the friggin heart!" Gabriel was exclaiming. He shot Alex a glance as she entered.

"Maybe, but you still give a crap about them, don't you?" 

"Dean." 

"Now they're going to die in there without you." 

"I can't kill my brother," Gabriel pleaded. 

"Can't or won't?" Dean challenged. The archangel didn't respond. "That's what I thought." Dean got out of the car, leaving Gabriel and Alex alone. 

"What do you want?" Gabriel asked scathingly. 

"Nothing. Just glad you're okay." Alex shrugged. 

"It wasn't --" 

"Your real blade, I know," Alex finished for him. "It's just . . ." She let out a deep breath before continuing. "Something's going to happen tonight. I can't tell you what, but I'm going to need you to trust me." 

"Trust you?" Gabriel let out a quiet laugh. "Why should I do that?" 

Alex sighed, running her hand through her blonde hair. She looked up into Gabriel's brown eyes. "Never mind." _What am I thinking?_ she muttered in her head. _I've never been able to save anyone. Not Ellen, not Jo, not Carton. How'm I going to save a freakin archangel?_ Alex shook her head, reaching for the door to get out. 

She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. "See you around, Z," Gabriel said quietly, only a hint of forced humor in his voice. 

"Yeah, see you around." Alex flashed him a sad smile before exiting the car. She quickly returned to the ballroom. 

"Show's over," she heard Dean declare loudly. "Sword's a fake, and Gabriel, he's still kicking. I hate to break it to you sister, but you've been tricked." 

"Well, he is the Trickster," Alex mumbled to herself. She looked around the room, planning her next move. Apart from the main doors behind her, their was a smaller pair of doors to her right. Alex mapped out the hotel in her mind, figuring she could quickly reach those doors from the lobby. _Good._

She heard Kali protest, but Dean quickly convinced her. Above her head, the lights flickered. "And, we're out of time." She spoke so all could hear her. Out in the hall, she heard the screams of the pagan gods, along with other, unpleasant and grotesque noises of bodies being ripped apart. 

"It's him," Sam said quietly. 

"How?" Kali sounded surprised. 

Alex looked at Sam; he shook his head. He hadn’t called for the devil. “Apparently one of your friends sold us out," Alex muttered darkly. She stepped behind Baldur. 

"Who?" Kali turned to look at her. 

"Does it matter? Shazam us out of here, would ya?" 

"We can't." 

"Of course you can't." Lucifer stepped into the room. "You didn't say, 'mother may I.' Sam, Dean, good to see you again." He looked at Alex, eyes flickering with interest. "Alex." The doors behind him swung closed. 

Baldur stepped forward, and both Sam and Dean stepped back, shielding Alex. "Baldur, don't," Kali warned. 

The Norse god didn't listen. "You think you own the planet? What gives you the right?" he challenged angrily, walking up to Lucifer, whose dark eyes glittered angrily. 

Lucifer responded by thrusting his right hand through Baldur's chest. The sound of ripping flesh filled the room, and Alex caught sight of the archangel's hand sticking through the god's back. She closed her eyes as terror flooded up her spine. "No one gives us the right," she heard Lucifer whisper. "We take it." He sharply pulled his arm back out, and the god collapsed to the ground, dead.

The whoosh of flames caught Alex's attention, and she tore her eyes from the scene in front of her to see Kali, face twisted in anger, fire running up her arms. She glanced back at the devil to see his reaction; he appeared unimpressed. Kali lifted her arm, and flames shot towards Lucifer. He stumbled back a few steps, and the fire grew. Dean and Sam ran, jumping behind a table for cover. Alex followed, barely reaching safety before a wave of fire rushed over their heads. It dissipated, and Alex raised her head slightly, just in time to see Lucifer, completely unharmed, punch Kali in the jaw, sending her flying back. 

"You okay?" Sam whispered. 

"Yeah," Dean responded, voice tight with fear. 

"Not really." Alex turned at the familiar voice. "Better late then never, huh?" Gabriel let out a forced grin. He pushed something into Dean's chest. "Guard this with your life." Then he stood up, disappearing over the table. The sound of a body being thrown made Alex looked up. She saw Lucifer hit the ballroom doors, flying through them into the wall. 

"Luci, I'm home." Gabriel stood in front of Kali, who was still laying on the ground, stunned. Lucifer staggered to his feet and approached his younger brother. "Not this time." Gabriel held his blade out, keeping the devil at bay. He helped Kali to her feet, pulling her close. "Guys," he called over his shoulder, "get her out of here!" Dean and Sam complied, standing up and hurrying over to Kali. Working together, they helped her out of the room, supporting her weight. Gabriel circled around with them, keeping his blade pointed at Lucifer. Alex hurried after them. She shivered as she felt the devil’s gaze on her back, and she dashed around a corner. 

They hurried outside to the Impala. "I'm not getting in that thing!" Kali exclaimed, looking at the black car. 

"Just get in the car, princess," Dean shot back, and, after helping Sam get the stubborn goddess in the backseat, circled around to the driver's side. Sam slid into the passenger side, slamming the door closed behind him. 

"Dean." Alex stopped him. 

"Hm?" Dean opened his door. "Can it wait till we're in the car? We're in a bit of a hurry." 

"I'm not going."

That stopped him. "What the hell do you mean?" he exclaimed. 

"I told you. Something was going to happen that I needed to stop. And something is going to happen. Please. I need to do this." 

"No! You're not going back in there. And definitely not alone. I'll go with." 

"No!" Alex stopped him. "If you go, if either of you come, _you will die._ Only I can do this. _Please._ “ 

“No,” Dean snapped. “I’m not letting you go back in there, Alex. He’ll kill you!” 

“This is something I have to do,” the girl pleaded. “You promised. You promised to listen to me.”

Dean looked torn. He glanced through the windshield, looking for Sam to back him up. 

"Dean!" Alex snarled. "Get out of here. I have to go _now_. Get in, and drive away!" She took off back towards the hotel, only glancing back to see Dean hesitate, then reluctantly get in the car. She watched him peel out and drive down the road before slipping back into the hotel. She quickly navigated the halls and came before the second set of doors. She quietly nudged one open, peering into the scene before her. 

"Screw him!" Gabriel was saying. "If he was here, I'd shiv his ass too." 

"You disloyal--" 

"Oh, I'm loyal. To them," Gabriel cut him off. 

"Who? These so-called gods?" Lucifer spat. 

"To people, Lucifer. People." 

"So you're willing to die for a pile of cockroaches. Why?" 

"Because Dad was right. They are better then us." 

"They are broken. Flawed. Abortions!" 

"Damn right they're flawed. But a lot of them try. To do better, to forgive. And you should see the Spearmint Rhino. I've been riding the pine a long time. But I'm in the game now, and I'm not on your side, or Michael's; I'm on theirs." 

"Brother, don't make me do this," Lucifer pleaded. 

"No one makes us do anything." As Alex watched, a second Gabriel crept up behind Lucifer, blade poised. 

She took a deep breath. It was now or never. Her whole body was trembling in fear, but somehow she forced herself to stand up and push her way through the door. "Gabriel, stop." Her voice sounded confident and strong, the complete opposite of how she felt. 

The room fell silent, the only sound being Alex's pounding heart. It was so loud Alex could swear they could hear it, but if they could, they didn't comment. "Alex?" She heard Gabriel, his voice filled with shock. 

Somehow, she didn't know how she did it, but Alex approached them. "Luci, Luci, Luci." She looked down at the body of Baldur. "You got some splaining' to do." She flashed a smile at her joke, and glanced at Gabriel to see if he got it. She knew he probably did, but was in too much shock to show it. She focused back on the devil. "Oh, and you got something right here." She ran a finger of her temple, in the same spot Lucifer had a splatter of blood on his forehead. "And, well . . . there." She motioned to the rest of him. Then she turned to Gabriel. "Gabe. Hey." 

"Alex, What are you doing here?" Gabriel said in a low voice. 

"Saving your life." Alex looked offended. "Sorry I don't want to see you die." Gabriel just stared at her, speechless. "But before you go, there _are_ a couple conditions," she added. Gabriel squared his jaw, eyes blazing. "I'm bending a lot of rules for you, man. You're suppose to die. Right here, right now. But I'm not letting that happen, so I have to make sure we stay on track, eh? So, first and foremost, you've got to stay away from the Winchesters. As far as they know, you. are. dead. Capisce? You show your face, everything goes down the drain. And then, I've got to fix it. Which will involve killing you."

"Then why not just let me kill him?" Lucifer asked, and Alex could tell he was mad they had been interrupted. 

"I have a soft spot for angels," she replied sarcastically. She heard Lucifer begin to respond, but she stopped him. "I'll get to you next. Right now, I'm busy." She turned back to Gabriel, who seemed completely shocked at her abruptness towards his older brother and unable to regain his composure, which was probably for the best. "So we cool? Stay away from the Winchesters, stay alive." 

"And what if I don't?" Gabriel crossed his arms. 

"Then I'll have to kill you," Alex responded quietly. "And I don't want to do that." She raised her voice. "Tell you what. I'll talk to you later, okay? Keep your listening ears on, and we'll chat soon." 

"You're going to let her talk to you like that, little brother?" Lucifer asked coldly. 

Gabriel rolled his shoulders back authoritatively. ”Go away, Alex," he growled. "This doesn't concern you." 

"Yes it . . ." 

"No it doesn't!" the archangel snapped. "You and your damn--" 

Anger flared in Alex's eyes. "I am trying to save your life! I am sticking my damn neck out for you, Gabriel. Do you know how easily I could be killed right now? I am _risking_ my life so I can save yours. So the least you could do is _show some respect_!” 

“Z . . ." Gabriel's eyes grew wide. 

“Just get out of here before I change my mind!" Alex heard the flutter of wings as he disappeared. The second Gabriel vanished in a flash of static. Alex let out a long breath before turning around and walking off towards the door. She heard Lucifer ask her something, but she ignored him, just wanting to get out. Her heart was pounding, ready to explode, and she just had to get out. The next thing she knew, she was thrown headfirst into the wall. She slid to the ground, the wind knocked out of her. “Ow!" She rubbed the back of her head. “N-Not nice, Luci,” she somehow was stupid enough to mumble. 

"Don't call me Luci," he warned her. 

"Fine. Whatever." Alex rolled her eyes, staggering to her feet. Where was this nonchalantness coming from? "Was that _really_ necessary?" She really should stop.

She was answered by being roughly shoved back against the wall. Large hands held her there. "You must be pretty brave," Lucifer said quietly. "Standing up to me like that. I thought we had agreed you'd stay out of my business." 

"Oh please," Alex rolled her eyes for the second time, trying to stop trembling. “Don't act like this was all some big inconvenience for you. Trust me. I know how much it would have hurt you to kill Gabriel. He's your brother for God's sake!" 

She was cut off when Lucifer shoved her against the wall. "Don't talk about my Father like that," he hissed. 

"Sorry." Alex closed her eyes for a brief second, her head throbbing. "But it doesn't change anything. Killing him would have crushed you. You m-might be the devil, but nobody d-deserves to go through that." She took a deep breath, trying to control her stuttering tongue. 

Lucifer stepped back, and Alex somewhat relaxed. "You've sure some nerve, walking in on me like that, claiming you did me a favor,” he murmured, reaching out with his blood-stained hand to grab her shoulder. "You're lucky I haven't killed you. Yet." He lightly ran his thumb over her collarbone. 

"Kill me?" Alex forced out a laugh. "You won't kill me." 

"And what makes you so sure?" 

Alex didn't answer immediately. Her breath caught in her throat, but she forced words out. "How's that vessel doing, huh?" She studied the burn-like wounds on his forehead. "Nick, it was Nick, right?" Lucifer nodded. "Well, he’s, uh, he’s looking a little worn. How long do you think he'll last? Another month, maybe two? Not long. You need Sammy to say yes." She sounded confident. That was good. 

"I don't need you for that," Lucifer chuckled quietly. "It's his destiny." 

"So it is," Alex conceded. "It's suppose to happen. But guess what wasn't suppose to happen? Me. I'm not even suppose to exist in this universe." 

"This universe?" Lucifer looked slightly interested. 

"Yeah," Alex continued. Adrenaline flooded through her veins, boosting her confidence and daring. "Where I come from, this is all a show. I know what happens when. But don't get me wrong." She held up her hands defensively, "I'm all aboard for this apocalypse. I want Sammy to say yes. But killing me, that'll only make him say no." 

Lucifer studied her carefully. "I don't believe you," he finally laughed. 

"Then kill me," Alex challenged. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted it. _You idiot!_ she snarled to herself. _You just told the freakin devil to kill you!_

"Alex Alex Alex," Lucifer sighed, shaking his head. "Can you even hear yourself?" 

Alex felt a tremor pass through her body. 

She knew Lucifer felt it, but he said nothing. Instead, his eyes focused on something distant. "Hm. Z. Where exactly did that come from?" 

Alex narrowed her eyes, perplexed at the sudden turn of conversation. "I'm not sure," she slowly said. “My, uh, my full name's Alexandra, Gabriel got Xandra from that, then shortened it to Zan, I guess. That turned into Z." She ended with a shrug. 

"And you're sure you're human?" He stepped closer, cutting the space between them in half. 

"Uh, yeah, last time I checked," Alex snorted. She tried to step back. Lucifer didn't let her. "Dude. Personal space." Her voice shook, but he politely let her shoulder go. 

"Mm. Well, Alex," Lucifer lingered over her name, and Alex held in a shaky breath. "I think I’ll let you live yet again. There's something about you. You're different." Then he was gone. 

Alex felt like she was going to pass out. She shakily walked out of the ballroom. Now that she was alone, and the adrenaline wore off, she felt numb with fear. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ she berated herself. _You told the freaking devil you knew the future? What the hell? He's going to use that against you, you stupid bitch. And then you challenged him to kill you? Could you possibly be more stupid?_ She hit her head against the wall angrily. Then she slumped down to the ground. "Dammit!" she yelled. _No one can hear you._ A little voice in her mind told her. _'Cause everyone here is dead._ Alex shuddered as the voice turned into Lucifer's. She opened her eyes, expecting to see him, but she was still alone. With shaking hands, she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

She dialed a number. The phone rang, but no one answered. _Of course he doesn't answer._ Alex told herself. It went to voicemail. "Hello," a young lady's voice reached Alex's ear. "You have reached the voicemail of . . . ‘I don't understand. Why do you want me to say my name?’ " 

”Hey, Cas, it's Alex," she began. "Figured I'd leave you a message, since you've been a little delayed when I've just prayed to you." She cleared her throat. "Yeah. I, uh, I’m in Muncie, Indiana. At this place called Elysian Fields Motel? Um, I could really use some help. It's hard to explain, really. It, uh, kind of involves Gabriel and Lucifer.” She paused, flinching at how that sounded. “Um, don't go to Sam or Dean. They can't know what I did. But, uh . . ." Before she could think of more words, the phone beeped again, indicating she was out of time. "Please hurry," she added quietly. Then she hung up. Thinking again, she scrolled through her contacts, stopping on Dean's number. She stood up, her thumb hovering over the call button as she took a step towards the door. Before her foot even hit the floor, black spots clouded her vision, and she collapsed, the phone rolling out of her hands. Then she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. A few things. 
> 
> 1) I apologize. The whole OC saving Gabriel is a bit cliche. But it was a necessary evil haha
> 
> 2) From this point on, most of the chapters are going to be original. So hopefully my own writing is going to be adequate.


	47. Anthem of the Angels

**April 7th, 2010**

**Muncie, Indiana**

**S** omething was happening. Alex struggled to pull her mind out of the black of her unconsciousness, and back into the waking world. She felt herself moving, and forced open her eyes. Brightness flooded her vision, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Someone was picking her up, holding her tightly in their arms. Alex buried her throbbing head in their chest, still not thinking clearly enough to try and figure out who. Memories started flooding back, and Alex let out a small groan. She tried opening her eyes again. Her head was still pressed up against whoever was holding her, and, at first, all she saw was brown. She looked up, squinting as the light worsened her headache. "Dean?" she tried to mumble out, making out the man’s face.

Dean looked down at her, his face plastered with worry. Alex closed her eyes again, burying her face back into his chest, trying to block out the blistering light. "The hell were you thinking?" Dean snapped, only angry because of worry.

Alex felt him carry her outside and lay her in the car. She struggled to sit up, but a sharp word from Dean had her lying back down. "What the hell happened?" The hunter asked sharply.

"I'm fine," Alex mumbled. "Everything's okay." She slipped into backwards into unconsciousness before Dean could ask her anything else.

 

 **W** hen she woke up, she was lying on a bed. She cracked open her eyes to see Dean sitting across the room. When she stirred, he approached. "How long was I out?" Alex mumbled.

"I went back for you twelve hours after we left." Dean sat down beside her.

"Ah. What'd I miss?"

"Gabriel's dead." Sam stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. "For real this time."

"I know." The girl slipped into a false sense of sadness, lowering her eyes to the ground.

"Yeah." Sam walked over to her. "What happened with you?"

"Nothing," Alex mumbled. "I did what I had to do, that's all." She fell into her own thoughts. She _had_ to do it. She had to save Gabriel. Right?

"You weren't hurt, were you?" Dean's voice broke her thoughts.

Alex shook her head, sitting up. "Nothing too bad," she slurred out, dizziness taking hold. She fell back down onto the mattress. She rolled onto her back.

You've been gone since last night." Sam sounded extremely concerned. "You didn't call or anything. We were worried."

"Blacked out. Twelve hours or so." Alex felt the bed dip and a hand on her back, gently rubbing her shoulders. She pushed back into it, feeling comforted.

"We're heading out tonight," Dean told her, rubbing her back. "Is that fine with you?"

"S'all's good," Alex yawned, stretching out on the soft bed. "I just need some rest."

 

 **A** lex opened her eyes. She felt well-rested, and rolled onto her side, feeling the warmth of where Dean had been when she had fallen asleep. She buried her head in the pillows, then she reached for her phone, dialing Dean's number. It rang twice before it was answered. "Dean?" she asked.

"Alex?"

"Yeah. Where are you guys?"

"We're down the street. There's good wifi here," Dean joked. "You okay?"

"Course. Just woke up."

“Tired?”

“Not really. I’m feeling pretty good.”

"Ah." Alex heard Dean cover the receiver with a hand, talking quietly with Sam. Alex narrowed her eyes. "Hey, Alex. We've got a lead down in California."

"California, eh?" Alex shrugged. "Cool. When we leaving?"

"Get packed." Then Dean hung up.

Alex stood up, looking around the dingy motel room. Since her stuff was still in the Impala's trunk, she packed Dean's and Sam's bags, tossing them by the door. She quickly scanned the room, making sure she had missed nothing. There was a honk, and Alex rolled her eyes, picking up the bags and exiting the room. "Let's go!" Dean leaned out the Impala's window, waiting for her.

"Don't we need to check out?" Alex asked him.

"Done and done," Dean promised. He popped the trunk, and Alex quickly tossed the bags in there before slamming the trunk and jumping into the backseat. "Careful," Dean warned her. "Don't--"

"--hurt Baby. I know, I know." Alex rolled her eyes jokingly. "Don't worry. Baby's tough. She can handle it." She watched Dean drive the car out onto the road. "So what's this lead we got?"

"Swine flu," Sam said curtly. "There's only been mild cases, but there's been a lot of them. Sounds like Pestilence."

"Hm," Alex said thoughtfully. "Can't help you there. Can't remember. Good as any lead, I suppose."

"But here's the thing." Sam turned to face her. "In most cases, the disease spreads out like a circle from the first patient."

"Patient zero," Alex agreed.

"Yeah. But if you track these cases, it's linear. Always heading in one direction."

"Like the disease is following in something's wake," Alex guessed.

"Exactly," Sam nodded.

"Okay. Good work." Alex smiled appreciatively. "Only you could figure that out."

Sam smiled faintly at the compliment. "Thanks."

 

 **T** hey drove in silence for almost an hour. Alex had her forehead pressed against the window glass, watching the world fly by. Finally Dean spoke up. "Alex."

"Hm?" Alex glanced over at the older hunter.

"You heard anything from Cas?"

"What? How would I have heard anything that you guys haven't?"

"I dunno. I mean, he'd call you first, since, ya know, you and him--"

Alex rolled her head back. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "I've told you. There is nothing between me and him." Dean and Sam exchanged a look, and Alex sighed. "I'm serious, you guys. I don't know what's going on."

"Come on. Don't give me that crap." Dean looked back at Alex. "I mean, come on. How blind can you be?" His voice was joking, but underneath that was a layer of seriousness.

"I don't know!" Alex wailed. She took a deep breath. "I mean, does Cas even have feelings? I mean, how would a ten thousand year angel _ever_ fall for me, you know? There's nothing special about me. Nothing. I've done nothing to impress him, I've never saved him, never given him any damn reason to be grateful I was here." She sighed, trailing off.

Dean sighed as well. "Whatever. If you say there's nothing going on, I believe you."

"Thank you," Alex said quietly. She returned her forehead to the window, pondering over what was said. She honestly couldn't understand why Cas was paying so much attention to her. It was weird; she'd admit that, but it's not like Cas liked her. He never seemed like he could ever fall for anyone in the show. But then again, this real world was a lot different than the show.

She sighed, closing her eyes. Maybe Dean was right; maybe she really was blind. Alex was unprepared for the whirlwind of emotions that followed. She was excited that Castiel might love her, but at the same time, she was wasn't sure if she wanted that. Cas was great. She loved him. But did she really _love love_ him? Alex sighed again. She wasn't sure.

Dean put in _Pyromania,_ drumming along. Every once and a while, Alex could feel their gaze on her, and she did her best to ignore them. She didn't know what to think.

 

 **T** hey drove all night, and all the next morning, Sam and Dean switching off driving every couple hours. Finally, they pulled into a motel in northern Nevada. Alex rolled out of the car, stretching her tired legs. She pulled her bag out of the trunk, slinging it around her shoulders. She took Dean's too, waiting for him to come back with their room key. She saw him walk down towards their perspective room, and quietly followed. Sam trailed behind, locking the car. Entering the room, Alex tossed her bag onto the far bed, looking around. There were two king sized beds; across from them was a dresser, a decent sized television set on top of it. Under the front window was a table and two chairs, and a kitchen set was located in the back near the bathroom. "Hm." Alex shrugged. "Not bad."

"Don't be picky," Dean told her. "I don't think we'll be staying at another four star hotel anytime soon."

"Please," Alex joked, "not every nice motel is run by pagan gods who want to use you as pawns against archangels."

"What?" Sam chuckled, walking into the room.

"She's being picky again," Dean explained.

"Shut up," Alex rolled her eyes. "He's just being paranoid."

"You know who lives the longest? Paranoid people," Dean joked back.

"Lies."

"You are rather picky," Sam pointed out.

"Sticks and stones." Alex waved them off. She sat down on the bed. "At least it doesn't smell." Sam snorted in amusement, tossing his bag onto the other bed. "Unlike you guys," she added in stage whisper.

"Say that to my face," Dean warned.

"Unlike you guys," Alex repeated.

"I'll show you who smells." Dean growled playfully, tackling her onto the bed. Alex let out a surprised noise — she vehemently denied that it was a squeal — and pounded him on the back, trying to get him to let go. She kneed him in the stomach, and he reacted by pulling her into a headlock.

"You guys are so immature," Sam groaned.

Alex disentangled herself from Dean to see Sam turn his back to them. She launched herself onto Sam's back, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Be nice, Sammy," she whined in his ear.

Sam barely even flinched at the sudden weight. He simply grabbed her off his back, tossing her back onto Dean. "Whatever."

Dean caught her, then dropped her. Alex refused to stand, and she slid to the floor. Dean huffed. ”Cheer up, Sammy."

"Dean, we've got to find Pestilence."

"He's not going to go too far while we relax a bit," Dean promised.

"Yeah, well, last time we stopped to relax, we almost died," the younger hunter reminded his brother.

"All work and no play makes Sammy even more psychotic," Alex said in a singsong voice. Dean chuckled.

"Shut up." Sam sat down at the table, pulling out his laptop.

"Dude, you're so tense." Alex fell back on her bed, watching them. "Fine, go amuse yourself with your research."

 

 **A** few hours lapsed. Alex passed the time watching television. The room was stifling hot, a sudden change from the cool air of and, as it turned out, the air conditioning was broken. Alex tossed off her jacket, and Sam opted to take off his shirt. At one point, Dean got up and left, and Alex heard the car drive away. Finally, Sam moved, letting out a large groan. "Bored yet?" Alex guessed. Still uncomfortably warm, she pulled off her shirt, preferring to stay in just her sports bra for the time being.

"Just a bit." Sam stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. He walked over to his bed, getting on the floor in front of it.

"Push-ups?" Alex guessed, leaning over the bed to watch him. He grunted in response. Alex shrugged. This wasn’t exactly uncommon; ‘stress relief,’ Sam said. She watched his muscles ripple under his tanned skin, bored with her tv show. "Here." She crawled off the bed, sitting on his back. "Can you lift me?"

"Easily," Sam bragged.

Alex pulled her legs up to her chest as Sam continued his push-ups. "How are you even doing this?" she joked.

"You're not that heavy," Sam grunted out.

The door opened, and Dean walked in. "What . . ."

"I know, right?" Alex shifted to face him. "I mean, how is this even possible?" She motioned to Sam.

"You mean, how is it possible that you and Sam haven't killed each other since I've been gone, or how is it possible that you are sitting on my brother's back while he's doing push-ups?"

"Uh, both." Alex shrugged. Sam started to stand up, and Alex laid down, wrapping her arms around his neck so she wouldn't fall off.

"Let go." Sam pried her off of him, tossing her onto a bed.

Alex sat up, crossing her legs. "Where'd you go?" she asked Dean.

"Uh, here." Dean tossed her a bag. She opened it. "It's pie," he told her.

"Well thanks for ruining the surprise," Alex joked lightly. "Is this all for dinner?"

"Dinner's in this bag." Dean dropped it on the table. "Beer's in the fridge."

Alex walked over to the kitchen, pulling four beers out of fridge. She handed one to Sam and two to Dean, keeping on for herself.

 

 **A** fter dinner, Sam and Dean went back to their researching. Alex helped out for a while, quickly getting bored. Her shoulders had been aching since yesterday, and she opted for a hot shower and an early bed. "Where you going?" Dean asked her.

"Shower, bed," she mumbled, stumbling off to the bathroom. She closed the door, pausing, then walked back out. She grabbed a pair of Sam's sweatpants and one of Dean's shirt from her bag before returning to the bathroom.

After her shower, she collapsed on her bed, burying her face in the pillows. "You okay?" Dean asked her.

"Yeah, just tired," she mumbled. "And my shoulders really hurt. Probably from hitting that wall."

Dean didn't respond, but Alex felt the bed dip as he sat down beside her. Hand ran over her back, gently massaging over her sore muscles. "You're shoulders are really tight," he told her.

"Yeah, I know," Alex yawned, starting to relax. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem," Dean stood up, turning off the light above her head. Alex heard him sit back down by Sam before she drifted off into a much needed sleep.

 

 **W** hen she awoke the next morning, Sam and Dean were sitting at the table, eating a breakfast and deep in a quiet conversation. Alex sat up, rubbing her still-sore head. "Hey."

"Hey." Dean looked over at her. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah, I guess." Alex slowly walked over to them. "How long you been up?"

"Few hours." Dean studied her. "Listen. Me and Sammy've been talking . . ."

Alex sighed. That was never a good way to start a conversation. "What?"

"We're sending you up to Bobby. We can handle Pestilence by ourselves."

Normally, Alex would have protested, but this time she nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

Both Winchester's looked surprised. "Yeah," Dean echoed. "You'll have to take the bus."

"Fine." Alex glanced at her duffle bag on the floor. "When do I leave?"

"Whenever you want." Dean stood up and handed her several bills in cash. That should get you up there." He glanced at the clock. Me and Sam are leaving now--"

"That's fine. Let me get dressed." Honestly, going to Bobby's sounded very nice right now.

 

**April 11th, 2010**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**T** wo days later she was at Bobby's front door. She knocked, then entered. "Alex?"

"Yeah, Bobby. It's me." Alex tossed her stuff on the floor by the stairs, rolling her shoulders. They still ached, but there were no bruises. However, she still blamed Lucifer for throwing her into that wall.

Bobby wheeled himself into the kitchen. "How you doing?"

"Pretty good. You?"

Bobby shrugged. "Could be better." He wheeled his way back into the living room.

Alex followed. "How are Sam and Dean doing? Have they called you? I haven't heard from them since I left."

"Last I heard they found a demon that could get them to Pestilence. They had him tied up last time I checked." His voice was sharp, and Alex wondered if he was feeling okay.

"Oh." Alex looked out the window; the sky was already getting dark. "Hey. I, uh, I'm gonna retire for the night, okay?"

Bobby grumbled something under his breath. "Sure. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Anything you need before I go up?"

"Do I look incompetent to you?" Bobby snapped, turning on you.

Alex frowned. "No. Sorry." She hurried upstairs.

 

 **S** unlight was filtering through the dirty windows when Alex awoke. She felt disoriented, and cracked open her eyes. She was in her room at Bobby's. She yawned, stretching out her arms and . . . wings? Alex looked behind her and let out a startled cry. She lurched forward and fell off of the bed, landing in a tangle or arms and legs. She scrambled to her feet, glancing behind her once again. Large black wings unfurled from her shoulders, stretching for the ceiling. The feathers were raven black with golden tips, creating golden waves. "What the hell?" Alex’s voice shook as she watched them move. The feathers rustled when she fanned them gently. "Oh my God, I've finally gone insane." She jumped out of bed and hurried down the stairs. “Bobby?!" She tripped on the last stair, but managed to stay upright.

Bobby was sitting at his desk, reading through a book, mumbling under his breath. When she dramatically entered, he looked up. "Bout time you got up. What do you want?"

Alex looked back at her wings, panic once again shooting through her at the sight. "Uh, you . . . you don't seem them?!”

"See what?" Bobby frowned.

Alex ran her fingers through the feathers. "I, uh, I'm crazy," she said, voice shaking. "I have fucking wings!"

Bobby let out a scoffing laugh. "Wings?" He closed his book. "What are you, an angel?"

Alex didn't find his joke amusing. "I'm serious!”

“Well, I don't see anything," he informed her.

"Yes, thank you." Alex smiled sarcastically. "Probably because I'm the one off my rocker, not you."

"You seriously think you have wings?"

"My eyes certainly seem to think I have wings," Alex replied. She brought her wings down to her side, fascinated at how real they seemed. "And my hands." She brushed fingers over the feathers, surprised that she could feel the feathers, as well as feel her fingers shifting the feathers.

Bobby rolled over to her. "What if I do this?" He raised his hand, passing it across her back. "I don't feel any wings."

Alex craned her neck. "Your hand just passes through them," she observed, eyebrows knitted in confusion. "And I can still see your hand through the wings. It's really weird."

"Yeah. You're off your rocker," Bobby concluded.

"Thank you for your concern," Alex shot back, her wings instinctively flaring up and above her head. "And I don't feel any different. I just seem to have wings."

"What color are they?”

Alex looked behind her. "Black. Some feathers are tipped with gold."

"Hm. Cool." Bobby nodded, returning to his book. "If anything changes, give a holler."

Alex rolled her eyes. "You're taking this rather well."

"I've dealt with crazy people before."

"Haven't we all?"

Alex spun around at the familiar voice. "Crowley?"

"Hello, love." Crowley's eyes focused on something over her shoulder. "Something different?"

Alex flexed her wings. "Y-You see them?" she stuttered.

Crowley flashed her a smile. "Of course, darling. Who was it?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Alex. Get upstairs."

Alex spun around to see Bobby holding a shotgun. She quickly hurried out of the room; when Bobby used that tone of voice, she knew there was no arguing. She ran to her room. _Who was it?_ What the hell could Crowley have meant? And what about that fact that he could see her wings too? What the actual hell? That meant she wasn't crazy. That meant . . . Alex shook her head. No. She couldn't be an angel. People didn't just become angels, dammit!

She picked up her phone, knowing who she could trust to call. She dialed a number, then waited. It rang, then ran again. There was no answer. Alex sighed, hanging up. She needed to know where Castiel was. Not knowing what else to do, she turned her attention to her wings.

 

 **S** am and Dean showed up at the house that afternoon. Alex didn't know they were there until she heard, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She hurried down the stairs to find Sam leaning against the kitchen counter, Bobby sitting behind his desk, and Dean standing in the doorway between them.

"Dean--"

"No, don't 'Dean' me." Dean crossed his arms, facing his brother. "I mean, you, you have had some stupid ideas in the past, but this--" He turned to look at Bobby. "Did you know about this?"

"What?" Bobby sounded offended.

"About Sam's genius plan to cram the devil down his throat!" Dean barely spared Alex a glance as she entered the room. When Bobby nodded, Dean added, "Well, thanks for the heads up!"

"Hey. This ain't about me," Bobby shot back.

Dean turned back to his brother. "You can't do this."

"That's the consensus."

"All right. Awesome. Then, end of discussion." As Dean walked back into the living room, his phone rang. "This isn't over," he told his before answering the phone. "Hello?" He frowned. "Cas?" Pause. "Are you okay?" Another pause, and Dean frowned. "You want to elaborate?"

Alex walked over to Sam. "Hey."

"Hey." Sam continued to watch his brother, who was now obviously displeased.

"S-So a hospital?"

Alex frowned. Cas? In a hospital? There was no way that could be good.

"Uh, well, I got to tell you man -- you're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box."

"It's a long story, but, look -- we're going after Pestilence now. So if you want to zap over here--" He was cut off, and his frown immediately deepened. .

Alex walked over to the fridge, paying little attention to the conversation. She could only hear half, so it held very little interest to her. She pulled out a Coke as Dean said, "Actually, yeah. Sure." He turned to Alex. "Cas wants to talk."

Alex nodded. She wanted to talk to him too. She turned, her large black wings an ever constant reminder of her current situation. She took the phone. "Uh, hey."

"Alex?" Castiel's voice was one of concern. "Are you okay?"

Alex hurriedly left the room. "I'm fine, Cas." She let out a dry laugh at how far from the truth that was.

"I got your message." Castiel's voice immediately grew angry."What the _hell_ were you thinking?"

Alex visibly flinched. ”What do you mean?”

“ 'It kind of involves Gabriel and Lucifer'?" Castiel quoted the message she left him.

Alex closed her eyes, understanding what he meant. "It's fine,” she promised weakly. “I knew what I was doing."

"If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn't be anywhere near Lucifer," Castiel snapped. "Or any of my brothers, for that matter."

"I saved Gabriel's life," she retorted, glancing back to make sure the Winchesters weren’t listening. "I thought you'd be happy."

"You risked yours."

"He would have _died_ if I hadn't stepped in!" Alex's voice rose.

"Better him than you!" Castiel yelled.

Alex froze, completely shocked as his words sunk in. "You'd let your brother die?" she whispered.

"If it meant saving your life, then yes." Castiel lowered his voice as well.

Alex sighed, sitting down on the steps, head in her hands. "You okay?" she whispered.

"I'm fine." As Castiel calmed down, his voice became worn. "You called me yesterday. What's up?"

Alex frowned, then sighed. "Cas? There's something wrong. With — with me."

"Wrong?" Alex could _hear_ his dark frown in his voice. "What happened? Was it Lucifer?"

"What? No, no." Alex closed her eyes. "I'm just insane, thank you very much. Except . . . except Crowley says they're real."

"What's going on?"

Alex took a deep breath. "I, uh, I have wings." Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m scared.”

Silence on the other end. Then she heard Castiel sigh. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "It wasn't suppose to happen like this."

"Happen like this?" Alex repeated, anger and curiosity pushing through her fear. “Happen like what? What the hell?"

"I'll explain it when I come find you."

Alex heard the sound of a bed creaking, as well as a pained groan. Her anger was immediately replaced with worry. ”Hey hey. _No_. Cas. Sit back down. You're in a hospital, man. You okay?"

"I, I've lost all power. My batteries are drained." Castiel sounded defeated. "I'm sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I'll come find you, okay?"

Castiel sighed. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'm at St. Luke’s Hospital near Delacroix Island."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," she promised. Then she hung up. "Bobby?" Alex hurried into living room. "I have to go."

"Go?" All three looked up.

Alex handed Dean back his phone. "St. Luke’s Hospital, Louisiana. I'm leaving now."

"You serious?"

"I have to, Bobby." Alex turned to face him. "I don't know what the hell is going on with me right now, and Cas is the only one with answers. I have to find him.”


	48. Ashes of Eden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I apologize if the next few chapters seem suddenly strange and OOC; things smooth out in the next installment, and I am currently going back through and rewriting this story with a) better writing and b) to make this work. I apologize if it seems wrong, but the "wrongness" is temporary and will be resolved. 
> 
> Thanks for your understanding haha, and if you're suddenly apprehensive, take it with a grain of salt because I've also been told it works decently. I'm just putting up a warning while I rewrite :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, by the way. You guys are the reason I write!

**April 12th, 2010**

**Delacroix, Louisiana**

**L** ess than twenty four hours later, Alex found herself standing outside of St. Luke's hospital. She pushed through the door and approached the front desk.

A young woman looked up. "Hello. How may I help you?"

"Hey. I'm here for someone." Alex stuck her hands in her pockets. "He, uh, he showed up a while back? Uh, might go by the name Castiel." Thinking back to what Dean had told her when he drove her to the bus station, she added, "The doctors thought he was braindead."

The woman nodded. "Yeah. Room 137."

"Thanks." Alex hurried away. She flew up a flight of stairs and down the hall. As she reached the 130's rooms, she slowed. Her wings twitched nervously, and she jumped, still not use to their feeling. She turned into room 137. Her hand flew up to her mouth.

Castiel was laying on the bed, eyes closed, breathing shallow. He was wearing a hospital gown, and cuts covered his face. But that wasn't what caught her attention. Large navy-blue wings unfurled from his shoulders; one was loosely folded under his back, and the other was splayed outwards over the side of the bed. The tips of the primary feathers were black.

Alex approached. "Cas?" she breathed, utterly confused. The angel opened his eyes at his name, and his his face lit up when he saw her. "What the hell?" Alex asked. "I've gone insane." She took a step back. "Totally insane."

Castiel tilted his head to one side. "You're not insane," he told her quietly. "Don't you know?"

"Know what? That I'm a loose screw?" Alex forced out a laugh. "I've got that figured out, thank you very much."

"You're not crazy," Castiel repeated. "Why would you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know." Alex felt her voice grow sarcastic. "Maybe because my eyes seem to think I have wings. I finally was just starting to live with that, but now apparently you have wings too. Blue ones."

"I do." Castiel didn't seem to understand why she was confused. "And you have wings, too." He struggled to sit up. "Come here."

Alex approached. "I, I don't understand," she said quietly. "This isn't normal, right? I mean, most humans don't just, grow wings, right?"

"You're not a human anymore," Castiel informed her. His blue eyes returned to hers, narrowed slightly in confusion. "Didn't you know?"

"N-Not human?" Alex stammered out. "Exactly how long have I been 'not human'?"

"Six months," Castiel stated, confusion still darkening his gaze. "Almost to the day."

"Oh, so you've been keeping track?! Thanks for telling me," Alex huffed, anger masking her fear. She crossed her arms, wings unconsciously pulling in close.

Castiel noticed, and his own wings stretched out towards her in an act of comfort. "Wings don't come in until six months in," the angel said gently.

"Six months?" Alex repeated. "So what exactly am I?" She sat down on the chair beside his bed, legs shaking. "Cas, I've totally gone insane. This, this isn't normal!"

"Alex. It's okay." Castiel reached out weakly, and Alex took his hand, which tremored slightly. "You're an angel."

Silence followed his words. "An angel?" Alex finally repeated, face blank as the realization hit. Immediately after the shock came a wave of anger, and her voice grew sharp. "And when exactly were you planning on telling me?"

"I did tell you," Castiel insisted. "I asked your permission. Don't you remember?" The confusion was back, and he withdrew his hand from hers.

"I think I would remember if you asked me if I wanted to be an - oh shit." Alex froze, grey eyes going wide. "Y-You were serious? I thought you were being, like, rhetorical or something." She shook her head, overwhelmed with confusion. She walked in a small circle before turning back to Cas. "So I've been an angel for s-six whole months? Since . . ." She thought for a second, "since that ghoul case back in Minnesota. With Adam." She inhaled sharply in realization. "I bet that's why that demon couldn't possess me."

"What?" Castiel's eyes flashed, and he struggled to sit up straighter. "Why didn't I hear about this?"

"Why would I tell you?" she shot back, flinching when Castiel flared his wings high above his head. Even in his weakened state, he managed to look absolutely pissed. "Sorry," she whispered. "It was when Lucifer first busted out of his cage, with, uh, Meg and Bobby."

Castiel sighed, lowering his wings and shaking his head. "Forget about it. It no longer matters."

There was a quiet pause. "How are you feeling?" Alex ventured to ask. She reached out with her free hand, but then hesitated. "Can, uh, can I touch them?"

Castiel nodded, and Alex ran her fingers across the course outer feathers of his wings. "I'm tired," he admitted, visibly relaxing under her ministrations. "And everything hurts. I don't like pain."

"Most people don't." Alex took his hand again. "You'll be okay."

"The doctor said I could leave," Castiel said. "But I will need pain medications." He reached out and covered her hand with his own, making the young girl pause. "I'm sorry, Alex." His voice was dull, and full of regret. "None of this was suppose to happen this way. I wasn't suppose to be like this." He sighed. "I wasn't suppose to fall."

"It's okay." Alex shook her head. They could deal with this angel thing later. "Tell you what. We'll get you out of here. There's a motel down the road. When you're feeling up to it, we'll head back to Bobby's, okay?"

Castiel nodded. "Okay. T-That sounds good."

Something warm trickled through Alex, and she jumped, confused.

Castiel looked throughly embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "My grace is weak. I have no power. Can I . . . Can I borrow some of yours? For the time being? It won't hurt."

Alex blinked. "I have grace?" she asked lamely.

"You're an angel."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Have it all."

The angel shook his head. "I don't need it all." The warmth returned, and with it came color to Castiel's face. He sat up.

The doctor walked in. "Ah. Mr. Novak. How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"I heard you were talking about leaving?"

"That is correct. I have to leave now."

"Now, Mr. Novak, we normally can't let patients go. You've had a bad accident -"

"I have to go." Castiel stood up. "Can, can I get something for the pain?"

"I, I can get you some pills, yeah. Hang on." The doctor hurried out of the room.

Alex stepped backwards. "I'll let you get dressed." She left the room.

 

 **T** wenty minutes later they were checked out of the hospital and checked in to a motel. Cas opened the door and gently nudged Alex through. She entered slowly, taking in her surroundings. The room was fairly empty. Two king-sized bed lay against the left wall, and a dresser stood off to the it was mounted a tv. In the far wall stood another door, probably leading to a bathroom. The wooden walls were barren except for a large window that looked out to the parking lot. In the very front of the room was a small kitchenette and a table with two chairs. Alex heard the door close behind her. Alex felt Cas move close behind her. She took a few steps forward. Cas stepped closer.

"So why am I an angel?" Alex turned around, suddenly conscious of the quickly-closing space between them.

Cas let out a deep breath before he began, and Alex braced herself. "I made you one. Alex. Listen. Heaven's . . . been at war. We've lost more brothers than I can count."

Alex felt herself blush furiously, knowing what was coming next. "No."

Cas looked uncomfortable for a second, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Alex -"

"No, Cas." Alex interrupted. "I-I know where this is going, okay?" She glanced back at her new, powerful black and gold wings. "Why . . . why doesn't heave just 'create' more angels, huh?"

The angel tipped his head. "It doesn't work like that." He hesitantly stepped forward. "Heaven simply can't create life. We are not God. Alex, I know this is sudden -"

Alex's entire face turned bright red, and she turned away to hide it. "Fuck you." She stomped over to the door.

Castiel appeared in front of her in an instant. "Please listen to me. Heaven only-"

"No." Alex crossed her arms, letting her wings flare out. "The hell, man? Y-You should have, like, told me or something!"

"I did."

"No you didn't!"

"I asked you if you wanted to become an angel. You said yes."

Alex opened her mouth to yell, but bit it back angrily. "I didn't know," she finally growled out. Then she buried her head in her hands, trying to wrap her mind around what the hell was happening. "Why me?" she murmured. "Why choose me?"

"Alex," Cas sighed, "You are the only girl I've known who actually understands. I've never known anyone like you."

"You've hardly even know anyone," Alex scoffed.

"I'm serious." His deep blue eyes gazed desperately at Alex. "I don't know why. Ever since I first saw you, I knew you were special. At that point, I didn't have feelings for you, but as time went on . . ." He trailed off. He cautiously reached for Alex's cheek.

 _Woah. Red lights._  Alex backed up to find her back to the bed. She ducked under Cas' arm. Cas turned around. Emotions flitted across his face. His blue eyes were filled with hurt and confusion. Alex looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"Fine." Cas closed his eyes. "I'll give you some time to think this through." He sat down on the bed, making sure to brush wings with Alex in the process. She flinched. "But don't think for a second that I'm going to let you walk away." He lay down, closing his eyes. "I'm going to take a nap. Don't go to far." Within a few minutes, his breathing had slowed, and Alex knew he was asleep.

She sat down on the opposite bed. Okay. This was weird. This was more than weird. What the actual hell was going on? But seriously. An angel? She looked in the reflection of the tv across from her. Large black wings lay folded across her back. Each feather was tipped with gold, creating waves of gold through the black wings. They were smaller than Cas' dark blue ones, but still reached halfway down her calf. She carefully extended them, getting a feel for how they moved. Her mind drifted back to Castiel. He wasn't a bad angel. Actually, he was the nicest one Alex had met. She stood up and walked to the window.  _I could have it a lot worse,_  she reasoned. _At least Cas is kind. And loyal, strong, and really not that bad looking. She shook her head angrily. What am I thinking? This is Cas I'm talking about. Okay. This is weird_. She stood there for a while, lost in her own thoughts.

 

The sun was setting when Alex heard Castiel stir quietly. She didn't move. "Cas?"

"Yes?" Cas' deep, gravelly voice sounded right next to Alex's ear, sending shivers down her spine. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his large, warm chest. He gently curled his large, dark blue wings forward around hers, blocking the window's light. Alex felt her stomach flip, and froze. She tried to protest, but her voice caught in her throat. Instead, she shakily removed his hands from her waist and turned around, trying to back away. Big mistake. Cas' wings prevented her from escaping, leaving her trapped facing him. Alex struggled backwards, escaping from the angel's grasp. He immediately dropped his wings, letting her go. "Alex."

Alex ignored him, and walked across the room to face the opposite wall.

"Alex." Castiel's voice grew sharp. "Please. Look at me."

"What do you want?" Alex spun around, her wings flaring up. "Just leave me the hell alone, okay?"

Cas took a stride forward, arching his huge wings high over his head. The feathers flared out, blocking the light from the window. "Don't take that tone of voice with me," he warned.

Alex quickly lowered her wings, intimidated. She sank to the ground. Tears threatened to spill over, but she held them back. She wrapped her arms around her knees, and her wings around her arms. This was all too much too fast.

Cas quietly crossed the room and knelt down beside her. He reached out and touched her wing. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I was under the impression that physical contact was how you humans showed affection." Alex drew her wings back. Castiel dropped his hands. "This is happening too fast for you," he guessed.

Alex nodded, burying her head in her chest, trying to block out the angel.

Castiel shifted so he was leaning against the wall beside her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." He sighed, gaze focusing on the far wall. "Every thousand years or so, a handful of angels are given the opportunity to take one female as a mate. I-"

"Cas? Shut up."

 

The sun disappeared from the horizon, and Castiel finally shifted. "You must be tired. It's been a long day," he sighed and stood up, offering his hand. Alex reluctantly took it, and he pulled her to her feet.

"Yeah. Okay." Alex mutely walked over to bathroom. It was large for a motel bathroom, and had a double vanity on the far wall and a shower on her right. She reluctantly removed her shirt, preferring to sleep in just her tank top. She left her jeans on, but decided to go bare foot. Alex quickly washed her face, and, being too tired to do anything else, headed back to the bed. Crawling under the covers, she closed her eyes, drawn into comforting slumber.

 

Sunlight filtered through the window. Alex stirred, but kept her eyes closed. She became acutely aware of the sound of someone's soft breathing. Alex cracked open one eye. At some point in the night she must have rolled over because she was now facing the window. The pillow beneath her head shifted. Alex snapped open her eyes. Her head was not resting on a pillow, but on a shoulder, and one arm and wing were laid across a chest. Alex quickly sat up, wide awake. Castiel looked up at her. "You okay?" he asked.

Alex nodded her head. "Yeah, fine," she mumbled, blushing.

Cas propped himself up on an elbow. "Good." He had taken off his tie and white oxford, leaving on only his thin white undershirt.

"You been awake long?" Alex asked uncomfortably, the unspoken message of  _why are you in bed_  left unspoken.

Castiel seemed to pick up on it. "You were calling out in your sleep," he informed her. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. It was not my intentions." He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, head tipped in confusion. "I'm in pain again."

"I'm sorry." Not sure how to handle the situation, Alex quickly got out of bed and entered the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind her.

 

After a quick shower, Alex redressed and re-entered the bedroom. Castiel was out of bed, and was over by the kitchenette "Cas?" Alex stared incredulously. The angel was dressed in a pair of faded jeans and had pulled on a just-as-faded grey t-shirt. He was staring in the fridge, deep in concentration. Alex's heart flipped at the sight of him, but she pushed the feeling down.

"What?" Castiel looked up. His eyes lit up when he saw Alex, wings folding towards her in hopes to not scare her away. "It's about time." His gaze returned to the fridge. "Hold on. I'm looking for some breakfast."

Alex walked around the half-wall to see what Cas was doing. She sat down on it. "What exactly are you planning to eat?" she teased. "It doesn't come already full of food. Or were you trying to make breakfast appear by staring hard enough?"

Cas closed the refrigerator door, eyes narrowing. "I don't think that is possible," he finally said. He stepped closer, reaching out and brushing his fingers over Alex's wings. The young angel immediately drew them back.

"I've upset you," Castiel observed. He drew back, giving her space. "Why?"

Alex laughed dryly at his forwardness. "I just, I don't know. I just guess I'm not ready for, well, all of this."

Castiel paused. "I don't understand," he admitted after a second's thought.

"Castiel," Alex sighed, "This is way too much for me. I'm only nineteen. Besides," she laughed, "you're like, thousands of years old. That's a little weird."

"If you want to take it slower I can . . ."

"Take is slower? Cas, I've been thrown into this in like, what? A day? Hell, I've only been in this universe a year or two!"

Cas was silent.

"And where did you get those jeans?" Alex added, completely off topic. "They look like Dean's."

Castiel looked down. "I believe they are," he said quietly. "They were in your bag. My clothes-" He lowered his gaze, slightly embarrassed. "My clothes need to be washed."

Alex looked over at his clothes. They were bloodied, and Alex nodded. "Yeah. Okay. I can go get that done. You should rest." She led him back over to the bed, and he sat down. "Are you hungry? I'll pick up food on the way back."

"I'll go with." Castiel stood back up.

"Cas. I'll be fine on my own. You need to rest." Alex tried unsuccessfully to push him back down.

"I'm sure you wouldn't do anything, but it's not you I'm worried about." Cas' wing twitched nervously. Alex looked up at him, perplexed. "Alex, female angels are very rare, even for the highest angels in heaven. I don't want any angels showing up when you're alone." His voice had deepened to a growl. Alex opened her mouth, but Cas silenced her. "I know what you're going to say, and I'm telling you you're not. There is no way you can fight them off. You're not even at full strength, and they are not going to show up alone." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I've fallen, Alex. I don't want anyone thinking I've lost my right to you."

Alex shook her head, ignoring his strange phrasing. "Yeah, okay. But you're not strong enough to fight off angels either, Cas." Alex held put her hand. "Give me your angel blade. I'll be fine. You need to rest. The longer you rest, the quicker you'll be back on your feet. Take some of my grace if you want," she added with a bit of a blush.

Castiel shook his head. "You have very little grace," he told her. "You're still not completely angel, and you haven't finished changing your soul into grace. I've taken enough."

Alex stared at him, stupefied.  _Soul into grace?_  She shook it off. "Okay. Just, just give me the blade."

Castiel did as she asked. "I should go with-"

"No. Stay here." With that, Alex turned to go.

Castiel stepped up behind her, and his arms came around her waist. "I'm sorry I wasn't there," he murmured into her hair. "That won't happen ever again." His nose brushed against Alex's neck.

Alex closed her eyes before gently pushing him away. "I should go."

 

 

 **A** fter she had cleaned Castiel's clothes, she stopped by the grocery store. She wasn't sure what exactly Cas would eat, she got a little bit of everything she liked to eat. Then she took the bus back to their motel.

"Cas?" She stepped into their room. It was dim, and she set the grocery bag down on the table.

"Ah. Alex."

Alex spun around, pulling the angel blade out from her jacket. "The hell do you want, Crowley?" she growled.

Crowley was leaning against the door, studying her casually. "So you're an angel, huh?"

"Yeah. Now fuck off."

"I just need to talk-"

"You think it's smart being here?" Alex cut him off. She stepped forward, pointing the angel blade towards his heart. "You're in a motel room with two angels."

"Neither of which pose any threat," Crowley quipped.

"Crowley." A low growl came from behind Alex.

"Ah. Cassie."

"Leave." Alex heard the rustle of feathers as Castiel flared his wings angrily.

"I just need to-"

"Leave." Energy crackled through the air, and with a blink, Crowley was gone.

Alex turned back to Castiel. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"It was Crowley. I was handling it." Alex handed him back his clothes. "Here. I also got food. Sit down."

"I don't eat."

Alex turned. "Sit. Down."

Castiel did so. "The idea of food sounds quite appealing right now," he mumbled admittedly. He rested his head on his hands, and he looked like he was going to nod off right there.

Alex carried her food over to the kitchenette. Then she placed a pre-made sandwich in front of the angel. "Eat this." She placed a hand over his forehead, checking for fever. He felt a little warm. She sat down across from him. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired." Castiel unwrapped the sandwich, studying it. "In pain."

Alex fished the bottle of pain medication out from her bag, placing it in front of him. "Here ya go." She popped out three pills and placed them in front of him. "Take these with . . ." She grabbed a bottle of water, ". . . this."

Castiel did as she asked. Then he bit into the sandwich. "It's not bad," he admitted. "I don't like the cheese, though."

Alex laughed. "Good to know."

There was a knock on the door, and she turned, confused. She reached for her gun, which was sitting on the table. Then she got up and walked over to the door. She unlocked it, and opened it. Then she broke into a broad smile. "Oh my God! What are you guys doing here?"

Sam and Dean stepped into the room. "Hiya, Pip."

Alex pulled Dean into a hug. "I'm so glad you guys are here!" She smiled up at Sam, then glanced at the chocolate bar in his hand. "You alright?" She knew he was prone to becoming hypoglycemic; nothing bad, but still enough to cause Alex and Dean to worry sometimes.

Sam took a bite, shrugging. "I'm fine," he insisted.

Alex nodded, and let them into the room. "Cas. It's Sam and Dean."

"I see that." Castiel stood up. "Hello Dean. Sam."

"Hey, Cas. How are you feeling?" Sam looked over at the angel, worried.

Castiel looked down. "I wish I was better," he said quietly. "Nothing has turned out the way it was suppose to." He sat back down.

"And that's suppose to mean . . ?" Dean glanced at the pain medications on the table, frowning.

"I'm an angel," Alex finally said. "And Cas . . . Cas isn't so much an angel."

"You're an angel?" Sam frowned as well, looking worriedly down at Alex. "Like-"

"Like full on angel of the Lord. Yeah." Alex walked over to Castiel, leaning against the table. "Apparently it's his fault."

"I wasn't suppose to fall," Castiel insisted, pain edging his voice. "It wasn't suppose to be like that."

"Yeah, well, it's about time you two got together," Dean joked, walking over to the fridge. He opened it, obviously looking for food; Alex was glad that she had just stocked it.

However, she shook her head at Dean's words. "You're joking, right? This totally came out of nowhere, you know."

Dean stared at her, one eyebrow cocked. "You mean to tell me you didn't see this coming?" Seeing Alex's face, he grinned. "You know, you're dumber than you look." He ignored the offended noise that left her throat. "Pip, he's been flirting with you for like a year. I mean, flirting in his own . . . weird, angel way."

Alex crossed her arms, not really believing the hunter. She was pretty sure she knew when a guy was flirting with her. Right? She sighed, "Why are you guys here?" she asked, changing the subject. "Don't get me wrong; I'm glad you're here. But why?"

Dean shot a glance at Sam. "Crowley's given us a lead on Pestilence. We were wondering if you had anything."

Castiel shook his head. "I have found nothing useful yet," he admitted.

"And a call would have sufficed," Alex put in. "Seriously. Why'd you drive all the way down here?"

"Fine. We wanted to see how you were doing." Dean turned to Castiel. "You had us worried."

"I'm feeling much better, thank you." Castiel's wings flared out, one stretching behind Alex. Even though she knew nothing about angel interaction, she knew it was a possessive action. The threat remained unseen by the two humans. It did not remain unseen to Alex, however, who blushed.

"Well," Dean shrugged, "me and Sammy were off to Iowa. We could sure use your help "

Alex bit her lip. "I dunno. Cas is still in really bad shape. Iowa, you say? Do you think we hitch a ride for a while?"

Dean nodded with a worried glance at Castiel. "Sure. Get packed up, and we'll get some lunch and leave." He headed back towards the door, then paused. "Are those my clothes?"

Castiel looked embarrassed. "They were in Alex's bag," he mumbled.

Dean huffed, not really caring. "Get your stuff packed and meet us in the car."

Alex hurriedly did as he asked, throwing all of hers and Castiel's clothes into her bag. Castiel stopped her. "I'd like to change back into my own clothes, if you don't mind."

Alex nodded. "Yeah, sure." She tossed him his things. "I'll be out in the car. We'll leave when you're ready."


	49. Lights Out

**April 18th, 2010**

**"S** o an angel, huh?" Dean glanced over at Alex. She was leaning against the hood of the Impala, watching the oldest Winchester fill up the gas tank.

"Yeah." Alex's eyes flickered over to Castiel, who was seated beside her, eyes focused thoughtfully on the trees. She moved closer to Dean, not missing how the angel turned to watch. "Apparently." She searched for more words to explain, but found nothing. "Yeah," she repeated lamely. With a small sigh, she leaned against the side of the car. She glanced over at Cas. "Hey. Angel boy. How long do you think before I can start teleporting huh?"

Castiel blinked in confusion. "Teleporting?" he repeated. "Angels don't 'teleport.' " He tipped his head to one side as he comprehended what she was asking. "You should be capable of flight in eight to twelve weeks. Your mind and body still need to change somewhat before you're able to successfully fly."

"Huh." Most of that went over Alex's head. "Uh, cool."

Sam opened the passenger door. "I'm gonna hit the bathrooms, okay?"

Dean put the gas nozzle back into the pump. "Yeah, me too."

Both of the Winchesters walked off, and Alex shifted nervously. She pulled her wings in close as Castiel approached. "You're hesitant around me," the angel noted quietly.

"Yeah, well, you can't blame me with you coming on so strong," Alex huffed.

Castiel was silent for a second. "I wasn't . . . 'coming on strong,' " he finally said. "I don't know what that means." He leaned against the car beside her. "Perhaps I didn't realize that you are still unaccustomed to angel culture. I didn't mean to frighten you." He tipped his head to watch her out of the corner of his eye. "I sometimes forget that humans have a different way of doing things. Courting, as it's called." He let out a quiet noise similar to a sigh. "I apologize if I've done anything wrong."

"I don't know. It's not . . . wrong. Just weird."

"Weird?" Castiel repeated.

"Yeah. I mean . . ." Alex ran a hand down her face, "like, two days ago, I was just a normal person, you know? Now I'm an angel. And know you're acting all strange . . ." She trailed off, not knowing what to say. "It's all just really sudden, okay? I . . ." Alex shook her head, shoving her hands in her pockets. "It just doesn't feel like I had much of a choice in this," she finally admitted.

"I asked your permission to make you an angel," Castiel said quietly. "And you made your choice. I'm sorry if you didn't realize what it meant—"

"I didn't think you were being serious!" Alex exclaimed. "Maybe you should have said something to make it a little more obvious!"

The angel didn't raise his voice, but his wings rose slightly in agitation. "Watch your tone with me," he warned quietly. Then his wings fell back to his side, and he reached up, rubbing his head.

Alex felt her wings relax as she realized part of the angel's shortness was coming from his pain. "Maybe we should talk about this when you're feeling better," she told him, glancing to her right to see the Winchesters returning. She slid into the car.

 

 **T** hey drove in silence for a most of the day. At six o'clock, Dean, on a sudden impulse, shuffled through a couple cassettes, and put one in. Alex groaned inwardly as _Highway to Hell_ filled the car. Dean drummed the steering wheel in time with the music. Outside, the sky opened up, and heavy drops fell on the roof, rolling down the windows. Alex leaned against the window, watching the trees fly by in the darkening light. Castiel yawned quietly. Alex knew he was almost completely cut off from heaven, and the effect wasn't anything good. He yawned again and lay down in the backseat, placing his head on Alex's lap. She tensed for a second, then relaxed. "Dean, can you turn down the music? Cas needs to sleep."

"It's fine," Cas protested quietly.

"Hey, no one said you needed to come with," Dean pointed out, but turned the music off. They drove in silence.

"Have you guys ever heard the song _Angel with a Shotgun?"_ Alex asked suddenly.

"No, I don't think so." Sam glanced back at her, then quickly turned back away.

Dean looked curiously back. He rolled his eyes. "Get a room, you two."

"Shut up." Alex absentmindedly ran her hands through the angel's hair. "It's a pretty good song from my universe. I'm not sure if it exists here."

"How does it go?" Sam asked.

"You want me to sing it?" When Sam nodded, Alex sighed. "Fine. "

 _"Get out your gun, battle's begun._  
_Are you a saint or a sinner?_  
_If love's a fight, then I shall die_  
_With my heart on the trigger._

_They say before you start a war you better know what you're fighting for_  
_'Cause baby you are all that I adore_  
_If love is what you need, it's a soldier I will be_

_I'll be an angel with a shotgun fighting 'till the war's won_  
_I don't care if heaven won't take me back_  
_I'll throw away my faith babe just to keep you safe_  
_Don't you know you're everything I have?_  
_And I-I-I-I-I want to live not just survive tonight_

_Sometimes to win you got to sin_  
_Don't mean I'm not a believer_  
_And major Tom will sing along_  
_Yeah they still say I'm a dreamer_

_They say before you start a war, you better know what you're fighting for_  
_Well baby you are all that I adore_  
_If love is what you need, it's a soldier I will be_

_I'll be an angel with a shotgun fighting 'till the war's won_  
_I don't care if heaven won't take me back_  
_I'll throw away my faith babe just to keep you safe_  
_Don't you know you're everything I have?_  
_And I-I-I-I-I want to live not just survive tonight_

_Oh, woah oh oh oh oh, woah oh oh woah oh_  
_Oh, woah oh oh oh oh, woah oh oh woah oh_  
_Oh, woah oh oh oh oh, woah oh oh woah oh_  
_Oh, woah oh oh oh oh, woah oh oh woah oh_

_I'm an angel with a shot gun fighting 'till the war's won,_  
_I don't care if heaven won't take me back . . ._  
_I'm an angel with a shotgun fighting 'till the war's won_  
_I don't care if heaven won't take me back_  
_I'll throw away my faith babe just to keep you save_  
_Don't you know you're everything I have?_  
_And I-I-I-I-I want to live not just survive_  
_And I-I-I-I-I'm gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight_

_They say before you start a war you better know what you're fighting for_  
_Well baby you are all that I adore_  
_If love is what you need, a soldier I will be…"_

 

Alex ended. Everyone was silent for a few seconds.

"That's a nice song," Sam admitted.

Cas closed his eyes. "Angels don't need shotguns," was all he said. Alex rolled her eyes and hit him gently on the shoulder. Dean just laughed. Castiel shifted and let out a grunt. His breathing slowed, and Alex knew he had fallen asleep.

"A lot of people back in my universe said this song was written about, well, you guys," Alex said after a few seconds of silence. "Well, more specifically, about Cas."

"About Cas?" Dean looked back at them in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah. About how he, well, mostly about what he will do. But he did side with you over heaven, Dean. So they say it's a song about you and Cas."

"Yeah, but that's a love song," Dean protested. Alex fell silent. "Oh no. I am strictly a woman's man."

Sam let out a chuckle.

Alex smiled as well. "Try telling that to the fans." This time Sam let out a full laugh. "Don't get me started about you, Sammy." Alex turned her attention to the younger brother.

"It can't be much worse," Sam laughed.

"Try an archangel." Alex let out a wide grin. "Or two."

It was Dean's turn to laugh. "Ah Sammy, you got something you need to tell us?" he smirked.

"Shut up." Sam punched his brother in the arm. Dean laughed again.

"So who's the lucky angels?" he asked loudly.

"Sh," Alex warned sharply. "Cas is sleeping."

"Sorry." Dean lowered his voice. "So who's the lucky angels?" he asked again, quieter this time.

"Well, a lot of people ship Sammy with Gabriel," Alex began. "And then there's Lucifer . . ." she added in a stage whisper.

Dean let out a loud noise of laughter, and the car jerked forward as he accidentally slammed on the gas too hard. Castiel almost fell off the seat. His wings flared out, hitting Alex in the face. She cried out in alarm, and Castiel sat up, wide awake.

"It's not funny, Dean." Sam crossed his arms and pouted.

"What isn't funny?" Cas looked at Sam. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Alex answered quickly.

Dean laughed again. "Nothing at all."

"What about you and Michael?" Sam shot back.

"Michael? Why are you talking about my brother?" Castiel asked.

"Nothing," Dean glared at his brother.

"How was your nap?" Alex changed the subject pointedly.

Cas let out a rarely seen smile. "It was very good, thank you." He hesitantly reached out, then placed an arm around Alex's shoulder and pulled her closer. She blushed, and saw Dean roll his eyes.

"Jealous?" she joked. Sam let out a snicker.

Dean glared at him again. "Not funny."

Castiel looked at Alex quizzically, pulling away. "I don't understand. Why would Dean be jealous?"

Alex laughed. "It's not important." Castiel grunted, and after a few seconds, Alex gently slid away from the angel, leaning back against the vinyl seat.

 

**Harris, Missouri**

**T** hey drove for several more hours. Alex stretched out in the backseat, leaning her back against the door and putting her feet down by Cas. At one point, Castiel lay back down again, putting his head on her stomach and promptly fell back to sleep. Alex sighed, and stared out the window, absentmindedly running her hand through his soft brown hair. His wings twitched, long primary feathers brushing Alex's face. She gently pushed them aside. Eventually, Dean pulled the Impala off the road and into the crowded lot of a small motel.

Dean looked back at her. "You guys want to bunk with us, or do you want a second room?"

Alex shrugged. "Don't care. What do you want?"

Cas looked up at her, his blue eyes dull with tiredness. "Whatever you want," he mumbled, and struggled to sit up.

Alex frowned slightly and looked up at Dean. "Can you afford a second room?" she asked apologetically.

"Yeah, probably." Dean frowned as well, casting a sympathetic look at the older angel. He closed the car door and disappeared into the motel office. Sam turned around in his seat to look back at Alex.

"Is he okay?" he asked quietly, motioning to Cas, who had laid back down in Alex's lap, eyes closed.

"I don't know." Alex placed a hand over his forehead. "He doesn't feel sick, but . . ." She cut herself off frustratedly. "Being cut off has really taken a toll on him."

Dean returned to the car. "So apparently they only have one room left." He glanced back at Alex. "Cas doesn't look to good."

Alex looked at him. "I know."

"Let's get him into the room." Dean opened the car door and helped Castiel out of the car and into one of the motel rooms. Sam helped, supporting the angel with his shoulder. Alex followed close behind.

"I'm fine," Castiel protested, and managed to walk over to the other side of the room.

"Well, at least they're king-sized beds," Dean pointed out dryly.

Cas sat down in one of the chairs and watched them carefully.

"Well, I'm going to bed." the eldest hunter announced. He disappeared into the bathroom.

"Yeah, uh, I think I'll try and get some sleep too," Sam admitted.

Dean suddenly came running out of the bathroom and launched himself onto one of the beds. Sam rolled his eyes at his brothers immaturity. "Shut up, Sammy." Dean pulled off his shirt and threw it at his brother.

"You are not sleeping naked." Sam crossed his arms.

Dean just grinned. "Fine." He slipped under the covers. "Good night."

Alex turned her attention to Castiel as Sam grabbed his bag and walked into the bathroom. "You going to be okay?" she asked, concerned.

"Yes," Cas answered. "I'm just tired."

"Well then, let's get you to bed." Alex watched as Cas stood up and slowly shuffled over to the bed. "Hold up."

Cas looked at her, confused.

"Oh, come on. You are not sleeping in all that." She walked over, ignoring Dean's snicker. "Shoes off. And that trench coat too," Alex ordered. She watched as the angel kicked off his shoes, and then proceeded to take off his trench and suit coat. He then spread his arms out for inspection.

"Is this adequate?" he asked innocently.

"Here." Alex approached him, reached up, and slipped the tie off of his neck. "You might want to take the shirt off too, unless you want to be uncomfortable," she advised. Castiel complied, tossing his white oxford onto the chair, but left his white undershirt on.

"Shall I take off my pants too?" he asked.

"No." Alex answered all-to-quickly, soliciting another laugh from Dean. "No," she repeated, "that's fine." Alex watched Castiel crawl into the bed. She sighed, pulling off her shirt and tossing it off to the side. Then she took off her necklace and placed it on the nightstand.

"Oh, and, uh, no couple stuff, you know?" Dean added.

Alex rolled her eyes, feeling herself blush slightly. "As long as you and Sam promise to keep it down," she retorted. Dean glared at her light-heartedly.

"What?" Sam returned wearing only a pair of boxers. He looked quizzically at them, then slid under the covers next to Dean. Alex shot Dean a glance before she slipped under the covers next to Cas, who appeared to already be asleep. "You ready?" Sam asked. Alex nodded, and Sam turned off the light, leaving them in the dark. Alex yawned and closed her eyes.

 

 **S** he lay in bed for a few minutes. "Dude, are you taking off your pants?" she heard Sam exclaim loudly.

"What? You're not wearing any!" Dean protested.

"Yeah, well at least I had the decency not to take them off in bed," Sam shot back. She heard the sound of a shove, and then the thud as a body hit the ground.

"What the hell?" Dean yelled. Alex chuckled as realized that Sam had pushed Dean out of the bed.

"Shut up," she scolded them, "I'm trying to sleep."

Both Sam and Dean muttered their apologies. Alex heard them shove each other a few times before they both fell quiet. Soon, their breathing slowed enough that Alex knew they were asleep. She rolled onto her back, staring up at the dark ceiling. Castiel shifted next to her, startling her out of her thoughts. "You still awake?" she whispered.

Cas didn't answer. Instead, he put his arm around Alex's shoulders and pulled her up next to his chest. She initially tensed, but with a, "what the hell," she snuggled closer, comforted by his presence. Castiel let out a hum of contentment, curling his wings around her. She put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, focusing on the angel's breathing, adjusting hers to fit in time with his.

 

_**A** lex was back in the hotel. The smell of blood and death was everywhere, permeating her clothes. She wandered the halls, carefully maneuvering through the many bodies on the floor. Panic rose in her throat, thick as blood, until she felt she was choking on it. Finally, she herself back in the main dining room. Someone was waiting for her: Lucifer. The burn-like wounds still covered his forehead, stretching down towards his neck. He had his arms crossed, his pale blue eyes watching her intently. Alex froze. She watched the archangel approach her in almost a feline way. His footsteps were completely silent, and his eyes never left hers. He stopped in front of her, but said nothing. Instead, a wicked smile crossed his face. Alex felt her feet taking her backwards, and she fled the room, taking off down the halls. She heard Lucifer laugh, the sound following her through the winding corridors, making her hair stand on end. She glanced behind her as she rounded a corner. She ran into something, which knocked her to the ground. She looked up, face twisted in pure horror at the sight of the bloodied trench coat—_

 

 **S** he woke up screaming Castiel's name. She heard both Sam and Dean jump to their feet, and something wrapped itself around Alex's waist, drawing her back into a solid presence. She let out another cry. Dean froze.

"It's okay." Castiel whispered wings folding around her possessively. "I'm right here."

Dean took another step closer, but stopped when Castiel let out a low growl, clutching her tighter.

"Cas," Alex said shakily. "It's okay. I'm okay."

Castiel relaxed, loosening his grip on the young female. "Sorry," he apologized quietly. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"Yeah." Alex pulled herself off of Castiel's lap, but didn't go much farther. "It's okay though. I have them all the time."

Sam flicked on the light, and all except Castiel flinched at the sudden brightness. "You sure you're okay?" he asked.

"You probably woke up the entire motel," Dean joked. He sat back down on the bed, looking over at her. "Need something to drink?"

Alex was still shaking, but adamantly shook her head. "I'm fine," she promised. "Just go back to bed." To prove she was fine, she got back under the covers, pulling them tight around her. Castiel joined her, pulling her close, curling protectively around her.

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, and then Sam turned off the lights. Castiel's breath stirred her hair, and Alex relaxed against him. Angel or not, she still found comfort in someone being next to her. She slowed her breathing to match Castiel's, and soon was able to fall into sleep.

 

 **A** lex was half-asleep. She could feel her surroundings, but refused to open her eyes. There was a body next to her. It shifted, pulling her closer. Alex shifted back into it. "Morning." The person pressed a light kiss on the back of her neck in response. "Dean," she whined. Mind still numb with sleep, Alex rolled over to push him away.

Suddenly the person next to her was gone. Alex jumped out of bed when she heard the sound of a body hitting a wall. She saw Dean held against the wall, his feet dangling in the air. Castiel stood with his hand at Dean's throat, holding him still, his wings arched high above his head in obvious anger. "Cas!" Alex screamed desperately. "What are you doing? Put him down!"

Cas turned at the sound of Alex's voice. He let Dean fall to the ground, who gasped for breath. "What the hell?" he snarled.

Alex pulled her wings close to her side. "What do you mean?"

Castiel shook with uncontrollable rage. "Don't mess with me, Alex. I mean you, and Dean . . ." He trailed off angrily.

Alex flared her wings up. "What?!" she exclaimed. "Are you serious? Me and Dean? Why the hell would you think there is _anything_ between him and me?"

"I heard the way you said his name. You thought I was him!" Castiel stepped towards Alex, towering over her.

Are you kidding me? You think all of that because I thought it was Dean next to me?" Alex stood her ground defiantly, glaring up at the angel. "Talk about overreacting! Him and I always share a bed! I have nightmares, and he's always there for me."

Castiel growled, but he lowered his wings. "Are you sure there's nothing between the two of you?"

Dean pulled himself to his feet, wheezing slightly. "Geez, man. What the hell?" Sam reached out, stabilizing his brother. "Seriously. What the hell?"

Castiel glared over at Sam, wings flaring at the sight of the Winchesters.

Alex had enough. She stepped forward. "Castiel! Sit the hell down and listen." She flared her wings angrily.

Cas felt his anger boil up all over again to see her defending Dean. His wings flared high.

Alex glared at him. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's nothing like you think!"

"Then what?"

Dean quickly pulled on his pants. "Me and Sam are gonna wait in the car," he mumbled, glaring at Cas.

Alex let them leave. "It's like I've already said!" She marched across the room and stood in front of the angel. "Me and Dean always share a bed! I have nightmares, and having Dean or Sam-"

"Oh, so Sam's in it too?"

"- next to me helps me sleep!" Alex finished, yelling over Castiel. "Oh my God! How thick can you possibly be?"

Cas let out a snort. "What are you talking about?"

"I get afraid, Cas!" Alex threw her arms up in exasperation. "If it makes you feel better, would asked the same from you if you were there."

"But you don't."

"Why would I? I never thought you'd make me an angel. I never thought you liked me. If I had known, I might have said something!"

Cas laughed angrily. Alex balled up her fist and punched Castiel in the gut. "Ow!" he growled. Alex swung again, but Cas grabbed her wrists and spun her around. He pushed her up against the wall, effectively pinning her wings down. He held her wrists above her head, leaving her defenseless. "Don't do that," he warned.

Alex just glared at him. "Stop it!" She struggled against his hold, trying to get free.

Cas brought his bright blue eyes back to hers. He let her go, his arm falling to his side, wings held tightly against his back. He stepped back, eyes wide. Alex stormed across the motel room, grabbing her bag in the process. "I'm gonna take a shower!" she yelled, pissed. "If you're done acting like a fucking child, let Sam and Dean back in. And for God's sake, if you hurt them, I will _end_ you!" With that, she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

 

 **A** fter a long, hot shower, Alex had finally calmed down enough to leave. She toweled down, pulled on her clothes, and finally stepped outside.

Castiel was sitting on the bed, hands in his lap, quietly playing with his tie. When Alex entered, he looked up.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Alex cut him off. "Where's Sam and Dean?"

"They went to get gas." Castiel's voice was quiet with despondency and regret. "I apologized before they left." He stood up and walked over to her. Alex turned away, tossing her bag on the bed. "I'm sorry," the angel apologized. "I shouldn't have done it. I -- I don't know why it happened."

Alex looked over her shoulder at the angel. "Might be the meds," she grudgingly admitted. "You've been in kind of a weird mood since you started taking them."

Castiel was silent for a few seconds before his wings flicked in acknowledgement. "Perhaps," he finally admitted. "Either way, I am sorry. I . . " he hesitated then looked up, eyes locking with hers. "I'm in a dangerous position, Alex. My grace has been stripped away, and I'm almost human. I'm . . . _feeling_ things I haven't before --"

Alex grunted. "You should tell that to Dean, not to me."

"I did. And Dean will be fine," he promised. "But it shouldn't have happened." He stepped forward, hesitant hands circling her waist. "Whenever you have a nightmare, call for me," he murmured. "Whenever you call, I will answer. Wherever you are, I will come."

Alex closed her eyes at those words. They stood there quietly for several seconds. Cas, gaining confidence, shifted closer, resting his nose in her hair. "You smell like Dean," he growled suddenly.

Alex closed her bag. "Well, I am wearing his shirt," she retorted.

Castiel inhaled again. "I don't like it."

"Don't like what?" Alex asked slowly.

"The smell." Cas pressed a kiss on her neck. "You should smell like me."

"Okay that's weird." Alex struggled out of his arms. "You made it weird." Cas smiled. "You don't do that often," she observed.

"Do what?"

"Smile."

Cas was silent for a moment. "Is that bad?" he finally asked.

"No." Alex tipped her head to one side. "It's nice."

Castiel smiled again, and Alex smiled back, feeling her anger towards him melt away under the gaze of his deep blue eyes.

The door opened, and Sam and Dean stepped through. "Is it safe?" Dean joked quietly.

"Yeah, yeah. Come in." Alex cleared her throat, looking over at Dean. "Are you okay?"

Dean shrugged. "I'm fine," he promised with a rakish smile.

Castiel flared his wings angrily, and Alex flicked him with the tip of her own wing. He obediently let his wings fall. The entire gesture remained unseen by the two humans. "I'm hungry," Alex said, trying to break up the tension. "Food?"

"Yeah. Sounds good." Dean twirled the keys in his hands. "Cas, you gonna get dressed?"

Castiel looked down at his appearance. "Perhaps that would be best," he conceded. He then proceeded to grab his shirt and button it up.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Alex laughed, her good humor beginning to return.

Castiel looked up. "It's much more difficult than it looks," he insisted.

"I'm sure." Alex crossed the room and stood in front of the confused angel. "Here." She quickly undid the shirt and buttoned it up correctly. She then proceeded to slip the tie over his head. "I, uh, Dean can tie that for you."

"Thank you." Castiel made his way over to Dean, who rolled his eyes. Alex sat down on the bed and pulled on her socks and shoes.

"I'm not sure what he'd do without you." Sam sat down on the bed next to Alex.

"I'm not sure what any of you would do with out me," Alex teased lightly.

The corner of Sam's mouth twitched into a smile. He looked down into his hands. "Yeah. Thanks for that."

Alex snorted. "Yeah, no problem." Her attention was drawn back to Dean, who was trying to teach Castiel how to tie his tie. She suppressed a laugh. Sam stood up and walked over to him. He placed a large hand on Cas's shoulder and spun him around. He quickly tied his tie and stepped back.

Castiel nodded curtly for the help and slipped his trench coat on silently.

"So. How you feeling today, Cas?" Dean asked with only the slightest bit of caution in his voice.

"Much better, thank you." Castiel didn't meet the hunter's gaze, and his wings stayed low in embarrassment.

"You want to grab some breakfast, then?" Dean walked over to the door. Castiel looked at Alex, who nodded.

They followed Dean out and across the street to a small diner. Alex slid into one of the booths; Castiel nudged Sam out of the way and sat down next to her. Alex shivered in the cold air, and he shifted closer still. Dean and Sam exchanged looks. Alex rolled her eyes. "Since when were you so cuddly?" she asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Castiel picked up a fork and studied it carefully.

Alex snorted in amusement. "Sure." She took the fork from his hands and put it back down on the table. "What are you going to have?" she asked.

"I don't need to eat," Castiel reminded her.

"Yes you do," Alex insisted. "You're not at full strength, Cas."

Castiel let out a frustrated breath, but knew it was the truth. "Fine. But _only_ because you said so."

They were interrupted by the waitress. "And what can I get you guys today?" she asked.

"Um, yeah," Sam ordered first. "I'll just have the pancakes."

"Well, _Tracy_ ," Dean flashed the woman one of his famous smiles, "I can't really decide. What would you recommend?"

The waitress blushed. "Well, today's special is pancakes with the side of bacon and sausage."

"Sounds amazing," Dean smiled again. "I'll have that."

"And how about you, honey?" The waitress turned to Cas. Castiel looked confused by the women's outright flirting. He looked at Alex.

"He'll take the same," Alex informed the waitress.

"But I'm not hungry."

"We'll share."

The waitress scribbled the orders down on her notepad and walked away.

"Well aren't you the lady's man?" Dean turned his attention to Cas.

"I don't understand."

"Dude, it's obvious she was flirting with you," Dean laughed. Castiel frowned.

Alex rolled her eyes at her angel's naiveness. She put both her hands on the table, staring out the window. Castiel placed his hand over hers, and Alex let out a faint smile.

The waitress returned carrying their breakfast.

"For you, and you, and you." She slid the plates onto the table.

"Here." Alex slid the plate closer to her. "Start eating."

 

 **T** he waitress made several excuses to stop by their table, often asking Castiel how his food was, while completely ignoring the other three. She was really starting to get on Alex's they had finished, the waitress handed Dean the bill, and handed Castiel a small folded piece of paper. Cas unfolded it, frowned, and handed it to Dean. "I believe this is for you," he said innocently.

The waitress laughed. "No, honey." She stubbornly handed the paper with her number back to Castiel. Cas took it and stared at it hard. Dean handed her a credit card, and she walked away.

Castiel handed the number back to Dean. "You can have it."

The waitress returned and handed the credit card back to Dean. They stood up to leave. Castiel moved towards the door. "I don't believe I caught your name." The waitress grabbed Castiel by the arm and gave him a coy smile.

Cas looked uncomfortable. "My name is Castiel," he told her nervously.

"Castiel? That's a nice name. So, _Cas_ , I'll see you around then?"

Castiel looked confused. "I don't know. It is always possible that . . ."

Alex snorted and pushed her way between them and out the door. She heard Dean whistle, and Castiel ask him what was wrong. She stood outside the diner and leaned against the brick wall. From where she was, she could still hear their conversation.

"What?" Cas was saying.

"Dude. That's no way to talk around your girlfriend," Dean told him.

"Wait. She was your girlfriend?" the waitress asked, confused.

"Mate," Castiel corrected her. Alex relished in the awkward silence that followed.

She heard the door open and felt Castiel's presence beside her. She stared at her feet. "Alex?" Castiel asked carefully. Alex didn't respond. "Alex, look at me."

"What?" Alex asked, looking up at the angel.

"Apparently I did something wrong." Castiel apologized. "Dean said so."

Alex laughed dryly. "You could say that."

"I'm sorry."

"Do you even know what you're sorry for?" Alex turned to face Cas.

He met her gaze steadily. "I don't understand what I did," he admitted. "I don't understand anything that happened in there."

Alex laughed angrily. "I noticed."

"Did I offend you?" Castiel asked. "Dean said . . ."

"Why don't you ask Dean?" Alex interrupted. "He seems to know so much." She stormed off down the street. Castiel started to follow her, but she turned around. "Don't." she warned. "I need some time to cool off, okay?"

Castiel looked torn. "Okay," he finally said. "Be careful."

Alex rolled her eyes angrily and continued down the street. She circled around the block around the motel, letting her mind wander. It wasn't Cas' fault; he knew very little about human interaction. But she couldn't help but feel jealous. This was all Castiel's fault. _He's the one who fell in love with me,_ Alex reasoned. _He's the one who turned me into an angel._ She sighed out loud. As she replayed the events in her head, she blushed slightly, realizing it was a stupid thing to get angry about. Cas had barely even done anything in there, but still . . . She let out a low growl.

"Excuse me?" Alex turned to see a young man standing behind her.

"Can I help you?" Alex asked.

"You're Alex, right?"

"Yes," Alex replied warily. She shifted her weight, unsure.

"Good." The man blinked, and his eyes turned black. Alex felt three pinpricks; one in the back of her neck, and two on her arms. She felt the back of her neck and pulled out a small dart. She spun around to find two more demons. Rage boiled inside of her, and she lunged at one, placing her palm on her forehead. She wasn't sure what she did, but suddenly white light exploded out of the demon's eyes. He crumpled to the ground, dead. Alex's vision swam; fuzzy darkness crept through her eyes. Time slowed. Alex reached out for the other demon. She felt energy run through her arms. Light poured out from the demon's face, but it fizzled and died out. Alex backed away, but stumbled to the ground. "Cas?" she called out weakly. The darkness closed in over her vision. She distantly felt someone pick her up off the ground. Her last thoughts were of her angel in a trench coat before the blackness over took her.

 

...

**Yeah, so Cas totally overreacted. Whoops.**

****A couple things I wanted to explain before we go on. The biggest thing is that angel culture is totally different culture than human. A lot of it gets explained in 2 or 3 chapters, so you'll have to wait until then.** **

******However, one point that's been brought to my attention several times is Castiel's uncharacteristic actions in the last chapter. First of all, these chapters were some of the first chapters I actually wrote. However, a lot of it can still be explained, I guess. He's cut off from heaven, hurt, and -- even if he refuses to admit it -- at least somewhat scared. Not to mention angels are notorious for being rather blunt and to the point.** ** **

********As far as angel culture goes, it does seem somewhat sexist, but it made sense to make the female angels less powerful (they're not soldiers). Plus, considering the fact that their culture is pre-historical -- although I date the existence of female angels back to before the flood -- the patriarchal hierarchy makes sense.** ** ** **

**********And yes. The new titles are all Breaking Benjamin songs. You're welcome.** ** ** ** **


	50. Dance With the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little dark, and I swear it gets better in the next chapter. This is the worst thing Alex will ever go through, so just bear with me!

**April 19th, 2010**

**Unknown**

**A** lex could hear voices. They pierced the thick darkness, pulling Alex back into consciousness. She groaned and rolled her head back. The voices stopped and the spinning room slowly came into focus. Alex tried to move, but couldn't. She snapped open her eyes. She was sitting in a wooden chair in the middle of a dim room. Her hands were bound behind her back, and her feet were tied to the legs of the chair. Alex tried to move her wings, but found them incapacitated. She let out a frustrated hiss. The door behind her opened. She craned her neck to try and see who had entered.

"Hello, love."

Alex felt all her muscles tense at the sound of the familiar accent. "Crowley," she snarled.

"Imagine seeing you here." Crowley circled around to stand in front of Alex.

"What do you want?" She struggled at her ropes, trying to get free.

Crowley smiled. He walked over to the table and picked up a knife, examining it closely. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked. He turned back to Alex, who was watching tensely, all too aware of what he was capable of doing. He walked back over to her, running the knife over the palm of his hand. He heard Alex's breath hitch, and he grinned. Crowley pulled up a stool and sat down in front of the angel. Defiance shone bright in the young girl's eyes, but the demon could tell she was afraid. He traced her jawline gently with the blade. Then pulled it away. "Ah, but I don't want to damage the merchandise, now do I?" He laughed quietly to himself.

Realization filled Alex's gaze, and she struggled once more at her bonds.

"Now you got it." Crowley stood back up. "It's all about the profit. And I can get quite a sum for someone like you. Now, normally I wouldn't stoop this low, but in this economy . . ." He circled around Alex, running his hand across her shoulders. She flinched. "I must say I'm surprised Castiel wasn't there to defend you. Made my job much easier, though."

Alex let out a wordless snarl.

"So where is your angel?" Crowley returned to stand in front of her.

"I don't know," Alex spat.

"Relax, love. I don't really care about that worthless creature. Just trying to strike up a conversation. Now, you, one the other hand . . ." Crowley trailed off into silence.

Alex glared at him sullenly.

"To be completely honest, I was pleasantly surprised to find normal tranquilizers still worked on you."

"How long was I out?"

Crowley let out a small grin. "Almost two days. I suppose you're still just human enough."

Alex pulled the corner of her lip up into a snarl but swallowed down a sharp word.”And what exactly is your plan?” she growled instead.

"All in good time," Crowley chastised her. However, he went on to explain, "As you most likely know, female angels are extremely rare. Especially unmated ones such as you." He chucked her under the chin. Alex pushed back panic. Instead, she bared her teeth and snapped at his hand as it moved up past her mouth. Crowley snarled back and slapped her across the face with the back of his hand. Alex spat out a mouthful of blood and glared up at him defiantly. "Like I was saying," the demon continued, wiping his hand on his suit, "since you are so rare, I know several potential, _buyers_ , who would be quite interested. And I suspect you would raise quite a bit of profit. For example, I know of a certain angel who recently got out of Hell, and I would _love_ to be on his good side." He carefully gauged Alex's reaction. Shock and fear flashed across her face for only a mere second before it hardened back into anger. "And I'm sure he wouldn't mind you. And once your friends Sam and Dean send his ass back to the cage," Crowley added, "I could sell you off once again to a more, let's say, a more forever home."

Alex strained hopelessly at the ropes. The door opened once again, and Alex froze. Soft footsteps echoed in the silent room.

"Is this her?" Alex squeezed her eyes shut in terror as she recognized the voice. That soft, contemplative, cold voice.

"Yes, this would be the one." Crowley stepped back. The knife flashed in the harsh light.

"You haven't harmed her."

"Of course not." Crowley placed the knife back on the table and leaned against it. "She's been quite cooperative."

Alex huffed angrily. She was silenced as hands brushed over her wings, and an involuntarily whimper fell from her lips. Crowley watched her, surprised and faintly amused.

The man walked around to stand in front of the angel. "Alex?" he asked, surprised.

Alex hung her head, staring intently at the ground.

"Last time I saw you, you didn't have wings." He crouched down beside Alex. "You do recognize me? You should. Remember? I'm the one who almost killed my baby brother. Of course, you had to step in and save him."

Alex didn't look up.

"I'm the one escaped from the cage? Sam Winchester's my vessel? Come on, Alex. I know you can hear me."

Alex lifted her gaze.

"There we go." Lucifer grinned. "I will be honest; I wasn't expecting you. What happened? Was it Gabriel?" He frowned playfully.

Alex refused to respond.

"Castiel," Crowley answered for her.

"Really? I didn't know he had such a soft spot," Lucifer laughed to himself. "But I _do_ know wings don't come in until after six months." He brushed his fingers over hers for emphasis. Alex flinched. "Meaning you've been an angel since I got here. And I don't suppose you were going to tell me." He frowned again, this time more seriously.

Alex growled in response.

Lucifer bared his teeth slightly in warning. "Well, _le adna agi_ ,” he continued, " I suppose you and I are going to have a great time." He stood up and walked around to Alex's back. He roughly grabbed her hair and pulled it, forcing her head to one side. Alex growled. Lucifer ignored her. He ran his fingers lightly from her ear down to her collarbone. Alex shivered under his touch.

Crowley shifted his weight as he watched the two angels interact. He didn't understand why the female would remain so defiant towards him, yet seem to crumble under the single touch of her own kind. He frowned and cleared his throat.

Lucifer looked up. "Just making sure she is unmated." He let go of Alex's hair.

"Ah. No offense taken." Crowley crossed his arms. "Now, if you don't mind, I have somewhere to be." He snapped his fingers. The last thing that he saw was Lucifer's smile and the terror across Alex's face. And then he was gone.

Alex pulled at the ropes around her hands, hoping she would be freed.

"All in due time," the fallen angel promised her quietly. "Don't move." With that, he disappeared.

She tried to free her wings, but it was useless. She looked around the small room. In front of her lay the table with the single knife. To her left, a small bed sat against the wall. The room smelled like sulfur and demons. Alex wrinkled her nose in disgust. She slowed her breathing as she realized she was close to hyperventilating. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her.

A flutter of wings told Alex Lucifer was back. He walked around to stand in front of her and snapped his fingers, and suddenly, she were freed. Alex sprung up and raced for the door. She was almost there was she was suddenly yanked to the ground. She looked back to see Lucifer, his foot on the iron chain that Alex realized was now attached to her ankle. She snarled in frustration, but Lucifer just laughed. "You didn't think you could get away that easily, did you?" He approached the young angel. Alex sat on the ground, knees drawn up to her side, wings pressed flat against her back. She looked away, refusing to respond.

Lucifer knelt down beside her. "I'll be back later. There's something I need to take care of first." He smiled and grabbed Alex's chin to turn her face towards him. Alex found herself unable to resist. He leaned in and kissed her gently, yet forcefully. Then he was gone. Alex shakily crawled over the bed. She was angry at Crowley. She was angry that she had wandered off without Cas. And most of all she was angry that her body had betrayed her. All it took was the touch of one male angel. She bared her teeth. She knew she had no control over herself. Cas had warned her about this. But she had ignored him, figuring she would be fine.

Alex slowly stood up and walked over to the table. The knife was gone. Dammit. However, there were several books piled in the corner. She picked one up. _Everything Dragons_ , she read. _Great_. She flipped through a couple pages and carried it back to the bed. She dropped in on the floor and collapsed on the mattress, too tired to care. The tranquilizers dragged her down into an uncomfortable sleep.

 

 **A** few hours later, she awoke. Blinking sleep out of her eyes, she looked around, confused. Where was she? She jumped. Lucifer was sitting backwards on the only chair, arms folded across the back. His chin was resting on his arms, his blue eyes lazily watching her. _Right_. Alex's memory came quickly back. She sat up, pulling her legs up to her chest. "How'd you sleep?" Lucifer asked politely, blinking slowly. He reminded Alex of a cat. A large, evil, annoying cat. With the largest pair of wings she had ever seen. The blood-red feathers faded to black near the primaries, but still shone brightly even in the dim light.

Alex didn't respond, and tore her gaze awy. Instead, she studied her shoes, retying them to busy herself.

"Still not talking, mm?" The archangel sighed, still making no signs of moving. "Then why don't we start with a little about ourselves? I'll go first." He shifted, pulling his feet up off the chair, crossing them. "As you know, my name is Lucifer, second oldest archangel. Unrightfully cast into Hell, etcetera, etcetera." He waved it off with a flick his hand. "I'm sure you already know enough about me. But what about you? Your name's Alex, maybe. You somehow know about me and my future. Care to explain?"

Alex shook her head slightly, refusing to meet his gaze. She attempted to change the subject. "What's hell like?" It worked.

Lucifer rolled his head to one side, studying her. "Hell?" he repeated, surprised at the line of questioning. "It depends. What hell are you talking about? Human hell, angel hell, or my cage?"

"All of them." Alex leaned forward slightly, interested.

The fallen angel looked thoughtful, wings pressed against his back. "When Michael first cast us down, we fell into 'angel' hell, if you will, which was the first hell created. In the middle was a large lake of fire. That's what we fell into. It burned, burned our wings right off." He looked back at his crimson wings, his face dark. "Fortunately, being an archangel, I was able to retain my grace and my wings, but others weren't as lucky." He turned back to Alex. "There was four rivers leading into the lake. If you were to follow the rivers, you would soon reach this frozen, tundra. It was cold. So cold it burned. Clever, really, if you think about it. In between the lake and the tundra we built our city. Or, actually, Mammon built the city. It's called Pandemonium, and it's beautiful. It's built out of crystal and gold, and reflects the light of the fire."

"So other angels fell with you?"

"Yes, of course. Let's see. Mammon, Beelzebub, Belial, Moloch, Baal, Abbadon, Huntriel, Puriel. There were others too. Most of them became human when they fell. Poor things. Eventually became demons, most likely. Powerful demons, but demons none the less."

"What about human hell?" Alex looked up at him, interest sparking in her eyes.

Lucifer let out a small laugh. "One of my greatest accomplishments, if I do say so myself." He leaned forward, blue eyes gleaming in the dim light. "There are nine levels, each designed specifically for a certain type of sin.

"The first level is for the virtuous people who didn't quite make it into heaven, for those who didn't commit once specific sin to get them put into a certain level. But I couldn't let them get away too easily, now could I? So I left it with no punishment. Eternal boredom.

"The second level is lust. Those people who died for love. Or who sold their soul for it. They're in a constant tornado, always flying around in circles, whipped around by the ever changing wind.”

 

 **A** lex listened as he continued to explain, finding herself more and more curious. When he finished, he looked at her expectedly. "Tell me about your brothers," Alex encouraged, lowering her knees from her chest. She leaned forward on her elbows expectingly.

"Mm. I'm sure you don't want to hear about all of them." Lucifer waved her question off.

"Then what about Gabriel? And Michael?"

"Yes. You and Gabriel seem to be rather good friends," Lucifer drawled. He studied Alex's reaction. Either he was wrong, or she was a good actor. "He was one of the younger archangels. Fourth oldest, and by far the most annoying. But he was my favorite. He was clever. Most of the time." Lucifer smiled slightly, eyes focusing on something distant. With a blink, he brought himself back to reality. “Now. Tell me. Castiel? Really?" He paused, studying her. "You fell for a fallen angel. How poetic."

Alex rolled her eyes. "It's complicated."

"You know, it does explain his reactions quite a bit. When was it?" Lucifer rested his head on his hands, deep in thought. "Ah yes. Carthage. Before I even met you. I was with Castiel in one of the apartment buildings. Well, he was currently trapped in holy fire,” he drawled lazily, "but that's only minor details. I had seen his face when I threatened Sam Winchester. He was angry, yes. The same reaction for Dean. Perhaps a bit stronger, but still the same. But when Meg told me that an 'Alex' wanted to see me . . ." Lucifer chuckled. "He went to a whole new level of angry. You should have seen him. Fist clenched, wings flared. To think. Just the mention of your name sent him mad. It was curious." His eyes refocused on her. "How long did it take you to say yes?"

Alex let out a breath. "I didn't know what I was saying yes to," she admitted.

Lucifer raised his head, interested. "It doesn't work like that," he began.

"Well, he just asked me if I wanted to be an angel, an I thought it was, like, a rhetorical question or something."

Lucifer blinked slowly. "Hm. He tricked you, didn't he?”

Alex shrugged. "I don't think he meant to," was all she said. Another question tugged at her mind. She hesitated, batting the idea back and forth, but decided anything was better than talking about her and Cas. ”There are, uh, rumors among the angels. They say, uh, this angel Gadreel, he, uh, let you into the Garden."

Lucifer tipped his head. "Is that so?"

"That's what Cas says."

Lucifer unfolded his legs, placing his feet on the floor. "He didn't help me, per say. Gadreel was God's most trusted angel. After me, of course. No, he's a good angel. Not the smartest -- I may have screwed him over -- but he was loyal.” He sighed. “It wasn’t difficult. Angels are not inherently familiar with the concept of lying.”

"Oh." Alex frowned. "Okay."

"What happened to Gadreel, anyways?"

"Uh, I think he's locked up somewhere."

Lucifer frowned as well. But all he said was, "Unfortunate."

Alex turned her head to study the walls, and the tip of her wings flicked uncomfortably. She vaguely wondered if she could fly out of here, but shook the idea off. There was no way she was winning a flying contest against an archangel.

 

 **T** hey sat in what Alex found uncomfortable silence. Lucifer, however, seemed quite comfortable; every once and a while his eyes would blink slowly, but they would always return to her.

“I don’t get it,” Alex finally blurted out. “Why do humans have to become angels? Aren’t there enough in heaven?”

Lucifer studied her for a few more seconds before answering. “Males angels, yes. Although the number has diminished since I was last there.” He lifted his chin off of his folded arms. “Unlike humans, we were not designed to be sexual beings. We have no physical form outside of our vessels.” He motioned to Nick in emphasis. “When our Father left, and the war began, many angels were killed. Our numbers were decimated in three days.” He sighed, stretching out his legs. “Some of the angels found a way to infuse grace into a female human. She then more or less became an angel.”

“A female human?” Alex interrupted.

“Males can’t conceive.”

Alex blushed. “Well, that’s great,” she huffed. “Really.”

“It’s a natural part of life.”

“Not for you!”

“We had to adapt, yes.” Lucifer nodded. “But without our Father, there were no more fledglings.”

“So I’m basically a babymaker. Fuck.”

The archangel tipped his head, staring at her in confusion. “You’re much more than that,” he insisted. “It’s very much similar to starting a family as you humans do.”

“Except I’m an angel.”

“Except you’re an angel,” Lucifer agreed. “Castiel didn’t explain this to you?” When Alex shook his head, he stood up and sat side of the bed. “You’re expected to have and raise fledglings, yes, but in every species, that is the role of the female sex. There is no difference here, Alex.”

"As a human I wasn't expected just to have kids," Alex muttered, fists clenching tightly in anger. 

Lucifer studied her for several seconds before speaking. "No, you're right. Humanity has changed quite a bit from where it first started. Woman have been integrated into the roles of men." 

"So? There's nothing wrong with that."

The archangel's wings raised in the hint of a warning at her tone, but his voice remained calm. "No," he agreed simply. "It is neither right nor wrong. Only different."

When he didn't continue, Alex pushed her point further. "So why do I have to be some fucking stupid babymaker?  I don't want that! At least as a human I can do whatever the hell I want."

"You mean being a hunter?" Lucifer's voice held a soupçon of amusement. "I would think being an angel would be an upgrade,  _le mohoath_. You can have a stable family, a mate who will take care of you. Much better than being torn to pieces, don't you think?"

Alex shifted away from the archangel, refusing to admit that he had a point. “So God didn’t create any female angels?” When Lucifer nodded, she added somewhat triumphantly, “Then what about Anna, huh? She led Cas’ garrison since the war!”

Lucifer tipped his head in confusion. “Anna?” he repeated. Then he reached out and touched Alex’s forehead.

Alex jerked away at the rush of icy warmth. “Ow! Stop!”

The archangel watched her, amused. “There’s no angel named Anna. You’re talking about Anael.” He crossed his legs, propping his head up on his fist. “He took a female vessel, so you perceived him as female. No.” He shook his head. “Perceived gender is fluid in male angels, as we can take both male or female vessels. However, fledglings can only be conceived when the male angel occupies a male vessel. It’s the way Father intended it.”

Alex stood up and walked over to the table, back to Lucifer. “Stupid,” she muttered. “I thought all you angels were suppose to be awkward virgins.” She felt Lucifer’s gaze on her, and she cringed, knowing he had heard her. Stupid celestial beings and their stupid super-hearing.

She felt the angel leave the bed, and he stopped only a foot behind her. “Abstinence and ignorance are not the same thing,” he murmured quietly. “I would have expected you to know that.” A hand came to rest on the arch of her wing, and Alex immediately pulled it in tight away from him. “I shall return tomorrow,” Lucifer said softly. “I must prepare to fight my brother.” Then he was gone.

 

 **A** lex woke up for the third day. Or at least she thought it had been three days. With no clock or windows, it was impossible to tell. Finding nothing else to do, she slid down onto the floor and leaned her back against the bed, facing away from the single door. She picked up the book and started reading. Several minutes later the door opened. Alex didn't have to turn around to know who it was. She could feel it. Goosebumps ran down her arms, but she ignored them. Footsteps approached. Alex turned the page. The bed creaked as Lucifer lay down on it. "And how are you doing?" he asked politely.

Alex ignored him. She flipped the page only to realize it was the last one. Not wanting to talk, she started the book over, looking at the intricate pictures.

"Are you just going to sit there and read that book again?" he asked. Alex didn't respond. "You know, real dragons look nothing like that." he continued. "I should know since I've met several."

 _God, doesn't he ever shut up?_ Alex wondered to herself. She studied the details of a young dragon hatchling. She jumped as fingers ran through her feathers. She brushed her fingers over a drawing of an ice dragon.

"Come on, Alex," Lucifer whined. "Talk to me. I'm bored."

Alex rolled her eyes, but didn't respond.

The fallen angel grabbed the book out of Alex's hand and tossed it across the room.

"I was reading that!" Alex protested. "Seriously, how old are you?" She stood up and attempted to reach it, but Lucifer held the chain back.

"You read it three times." He pulled on the chain, and Alex turned around to see him lying on his side, his head propped up by his elbow. "And if we're on the topic of age . . ."

"Let me go," Alex commanded. She tried to pull the chain out of Lucifer's hand.

He shook his head. "Come here," he ordered.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Alex crossed her arms, wings flaring. Lucifer yanked sharply on the chain, pulling her legs out from under her. Alex fell to the ground. He was standing over her in a second.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it," he growled. He roughly pulled Alex back up to her feet. Alex's skin burned where he had grabbed her arm. She wrenched it away. Anger boiled up inside of her, and she lashed out, raking her nails across Lucifer's cheek. Long red scratches ran down his face, blood welling up in some of the deeper ones. They began to heal immediately.

Suddenly she was thrown against the wall. Lucifer held her wrists above her head, and her wings were pinned behind her. Lucifer snarled. “ _Never_ do that again." Alex kicked out with her legs, and Lucifer took a step closer, pressing his body up against hers to keep her still. His face was inches away from hers. Alex turned her head, refusing to make direct eye contact. She growled, but he tightened his grip on her wrists, making her gasp in pain. Alex felt her resolve crumble. Lucifer laughed quietly.

"Well, don't let me interrupt."

Lucifer looked behind him. Alex used the distraction to wrench herself out of his grasp. However, Lucifer grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his chest. Alex saw Crowley leaning against the wall, arms crossed in amusement. She hissed, but was silenced.

"May I help you?" the devil asked, slightly angry at being interrupted. He pulled Alex even closer to his chest.

"Excuse me, but this is, personal, business." Crowley motioned to Alex. "I want to talk to her, but I don't want to deal with her attitude. Tie her back up."

Lucifer let out a breath. "Fine. But don't hurt her."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Lucifer shoved Alex down into the chair, and in no time at all she was retied. "I'll be quick, okay?" he promised, running his hand through her feathers one last time before leaving the room. Alex tried to ignored him.

Alex turned to look at Crowley. "What do you want?"

Crowley didn't answer immediately. He took his time, walking around the room. Suddenly he stopped. "Where's my knife?" he asked angrily.

Alex shrugged. "Dunno. I could ask you the same thing."

"Don't lie to me," Crowley threatened. Alex met his gaze steadily and said nothing. "Fine." The demon gave up. "I have bigger problems."

Alex let out a small smile. "You'll have even bigger problems when I get out," she swore.

"Well, then I guess we won't let that happen, will we, love?" Crowley replied, unfazed. "Oh, and I saw those claw marks down his face," he added. "I don't suppose he'll forget about that one." He leaned over Alex. "I'd be careful who you piss off, you hear me? Just a little word to the wise."

"So how are you going to get me back from Lucifer?" Alex changed the subject. "I don't suppose he's going to leave me to you in his will."

"I won't have to get you back. I've convinced him to keep you here until he 'defeats' Michael." Crowley tapped the side of his head. "I've got it all figured out, you see?"

Alex grunted.

"Now, explain this to me," he continued. "I come in and threaten you with a knife. Yet you remain defiant. He wanders in, and all it takes is one touch, and, poof." He tapped the table loudly.

"It's not that hard." Alex flinched as Lucifer's smooth voice reached her ears.

"Interesting," Crowley mumbled under his breath.

"Here, let me show you," Lucifer purred, slowly wandering up to Alex. She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing.

She opened one eye to see Crowley leaning against the table, carefully watching the two angels. She quickly closed it again as she picked up Lucifer's scent.

"So does this work on every female angel?" Crowley asked.

Lucifer placed his hand on Alex's shoulder, absentmindedly stroking it with his thumb. "Yes, and with any male angel." Alex let out a shaky breath. "You're fine," he murmured softly. He withdrew his hand, making sure to brush the inside of her wing. She instantly drew them back.

"I didn't know they got so, gooey, for lack of a better word," Crowley spoke quietly.

"Only when they've been without their mate for some time," Lucifer explained. "With him, they remain quite . . . stable." He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Alex's ear.

“I don’t have a mate,” she tried to get out, but failed. She clamped her mouth shut as a whimper escaped instead.

Lucifer smiled in amusement at her denial. "Once she learns to control what she's feeling she'll be far less compliant, but I suppose the whirlwind of new emotions and feelings inside are rather overwhelming."  

"So I don't suppose I could do that," Crowley concluded.

"Not as effectively," Lucifer corrected him again. "But it would still work to some effect, if done correctly. For example." He gently grabbed Alex's wings. She tried to pull them away, but Lucifer held on firmly. "The underside of the wings are one of the most sensitive spots. There's a reason angels keep them hidden." He reached out with his other hand and raked his fingers through her soft under-feathers. Alex shivered. She tried even harder to focus on her breathing, but it was becoming ragged. Almost subconsciously, she tilted her head away from him, baring her neck. Lucifer laughed. " _Drix, li mohaoth,_ “ he soothed her. _Relax, my love._ His Enochian words were translated in Alex's brain, and she swallowed thickly. Lucifer returned his attention to the demon. "Why exactly would you want to know this?" he questioned.

"No reason." Crowley flashed a smile at Alex. "Just for, future, references."

She bared her teeth.

Lucifer laughed, making Alex cringe. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like you to leave." He said it lightly, but Alex could sense a hidden threat behind his words.

"Whatever you wish." Crowley seemed to pick up on it too. He turned and walked out of the room.

Lucifer sat down on the stool in front of Alex. The scratches had faded into thin pink lines. He rubbed them and scowled. "If you _ever_ do that again," he warned, "you will deeply regret it." He ran his fingers through his hair. "You need to remember that I am an archangel. _You_ are not. You're just a normal, commonplace angel. I could squash you like a bug with the snap of my fingers." He leaned in. "Okay?" He searched Alex's face for any sign of agreement.

Alex let out a quiet hiss.

Lucifer furrowed his brow. "Fine. I'll take that as a yes." He stood up and snapped his fingers. The ropes binding Alex's legs fell to the ground. She stood up as well, frustrated to find her hands still bound behind her back. "Not this time." Lucifer seemed to notice Alex's confusion. "Trust me, it's better this way. For both you and me." He stepped forward, and Alex stepped backwards, forgetting there was a chair there. She knocked it over, and, without her arms to balance herself, fell backwards. She twisted, narrowly avoided landing on the chair, but ended up flat on her back, her hands and wings painfully trapped beneath her. She lay there for a second, trying to catch her breath.

Lucifer laughed, "That will teach you to back away." He picked up the chair and straddled it, resting his arms on the backrest and looking down at Alex, still laying on the floor. She tried to get up, but only succeeded in rolling over. Now she was laying flat on her stomach, her hands laying uselessly across her back. Alex desperately struggled to get on her feet. But it was useless. She flared her nostrils in frustration, and froze as she caught Lucifer's scent. 

He had stopped laughing, and Alex could feel his cold gaze on her back, and Alex began to panic. She heard the chair legs scrape the concrete floor as it was pushed away, and then a hand came to rest on her back.

 _Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck_. Alex tried to roll into a less exposed posture, but Lucifer pushed down with his hand, effectively stilling her. She heard him draw in a deep breath, scenting the air, fingers drumming on her back almost curiously. Alex tried to draw her wings close in, trying to block him out. However, Lucifer growled, and roughly shoved them away. He kept one hand planted firmly on the small of her back to keep her still, and ran the other up to where her wings met her shoulder.

Alex let out a shaky breath. She could feel her body start to take over, forcing her mind to shut down. There were words being spoken, quiet and thoughtful, but she couldn't understand them. The Enochian was too complex, too much for her to handle, and she only caught small fragments, a word here and there.  _Curious_ _. Quiet. Don't._  She desperately tried to hold onto her thoughts, onto her reason, but it was impossible. Lucifer let out a breath and pushed his hand into her back, carefully massaging where her wing joined her back, his Enochian ceasing. Alex whimpered and tried to push herself up into his hand. Lucifer moved,untying her wrists and running his hand through Alex's feathers. She flattened her wings to the ground in submission, eyes closing at the gentle touch. It felt good, feathers and dirt being tugged away. "You should be careful with your wings." Finally the archangel reverted back to English. "They need care." Lucifer flared his wings, covering himself and Alex, blocking out the light from above. He spoke in Enochian again, words too quiet to be understood, leaving Alex to hold her breath and close her eyes, letting him work. Then he drew away, leaving Alex laying of the floor, breathing heavily. She whimpered again, her innermost being wanting him back,  _needing_  him back. She awkwardly reached back with her hand, but the archangel knocked them away.

He moved away, knowing what she wanted, and pulled Alex up into a sitting position. "No, not tonight,  _li adna agi._ " He leaned in and kissed he, ignoring how the female whined. "I feel I don't truly have you consent." Alex tried to deepen the kiss, but Lucifer pulled back. He smiled, raised his wings, and disappeared, leaving Alex sitting alone in the middle of the room. She sat there for several minutes, trying to get herself back under control. Finally, she gained enough strength to stand up. Anger boiled up inside of her, and she let out a roar. With a sudden burst of strength, she picked up the table and hurled it against the wall. She threw the books below the table around the room. She was angry that she couldn't control herself, and that  _he_  of all angels could make her let down her guard.

"What's the matter, love?" Alex turned to see Crowley, calm as ever. She snarled, and threw the chair at him. It hit the wall where Crowley had been seconds before and shattered. "Somebody needs to teach you some manners." Crowley reappeared behind Alex.

She spun around. "Shut up, demon," she hissed.

Crowley clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Now, now, that's no way to talk to your superior, now is it? And I thought Lucifer would have had you under control by now."

Alex bared her teeth at the mention of Lucifer's name. Crowley watched her carefully. "And where is your mate?"

"He is _not_ my mate!" Alex snapped.

Crowley held up his hands. "Touchy touchy. But you didn't answer my question."

"I don't know. Detroit, maybe? Sam's going to say yes sometime soon."

"I hope they have a plan." Crowley lowered his voice. "Because I let Lucifer have you for a steal."

Alex snarled. He raised an eyebrow, daring her to challenge him. Alex took a deep breath. "Of course they have a plan. They're not stupid!”

"Good. Because as soon as your _mate_ learns I helped, well, lets just say it won't be pretty." Crowley disappeared, leaving Alex standing alone.

"Crowley!" Alex yelled. He didn't return. Alex let out a deep breath. She felt better after yelling at Crowley, but was still mad at herself. She snarled again and wandered over to the bed, the all-to-familiar sound of a chain dragging over concrete filling the small room. She collapsed on the bed and began to weep bitterly. _Li adna agi._ She heard Lucifer's voice in her head. _My obedient one._ Alex buried her head in the pillow. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. Castiel would be there beside her, his blue eyes filled with worry. _Cas?_ she called hopelessly, _Where are you? You said you'd come whenever I needed you. And I need you._


	51. Swan Song

**S** everal hours passed, and Alex began to study the cuff around her ankle. It appeared to be pure iron with a devil's trap carved into it, so Alex assumed it was also used for demons. The lock seemed crude and simple, and she quickly scanned the room for something to pick it with. She saw nothing, and let out a loud breath. Next, she tried prying it off. Unfortunately, she wasn't exactly strong enough to bend the iron. She hissed, frustrated anger growing in her gut. She sat on the bed, focusing on the lock, trying to break it with whatever angel mojo she had used against those demons.

It worked. The metal cuff sprung open. Alex let out a broad grin, and she jumped up, racing for the door. She flung it opened, and froze. Lucifer stood there, looking down at her, confusion written across his face, hand extended, reaching for the door handle. Alex took a small step back. The archangel's face twisted in anger as he realized what was going on. Before Alex could react, he swung his fist, connecting with her jaw. Alex flew up into the air, hitting the ground with a loud thump. She landed on her back, the wind knocked out of her, her wings splayed out on the floor. Lucifer stepped forward, raising a foot. He brought it down hard on her left wing. Alex let out an inhuman scream as she felt the bone shatter. Pain seared up her spine, and her body writhed in agony.

Lucifer reached down, pulling her up to her feet. "Were you trying to escape?" he hissed. "We can't have this attitude, now can we?" He held a fist in front of her face. Alex closed her eyes, expecting another blow. When it didn't come, she looked up. "I am an archangel," Lucifer reminded her. With a single movement, he flicked her in the nose. There was a crack, and Alex flew backwards into the wall, hitting it with such a force it shook. Pain flooded her face as she slid to the ground. She lay there, stunned. Lucifer approached. "Get up." He kicked her in the ribs. "I said, get up!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Alex heard Crowley exclaim. For the first time, she was thankful he was here.

"I caught her trying to escape through the front door," Lucifer growled. He kicked Alex in the stomach, and she screeched. She curled up, drawing her knees into her chest, wrapping her good wing around her. She coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"You can't hurt her," the demon snapped, trying to keep calm. "She's still on the lease. You don't own her yet."

"Then get her off the lease," Lucifer hissed, turning to the demon. "She disobeyed me, therefore she gets punished. And that punishment is whatever I decide."

"She managed to get out of those cuffs?" Crowley asked, slightly surprised. "Impressive."

"She tried to run away. No real angel runs away from their mate."

"She showed courage and determination." Crowley pointed out, trying to calm him down. "Those are two traits any angel would want to see in their mate."

"But she showed no sign of loyalty."

"Loyalty can be learned. Tenacity and fortitude cannot." Crowley let out a deep breath. "I will look over the lease. I might be able to shorten it. No promises," he added. "Until then, you leave her unharmed."

"Fine." the archangel growled, anger fading. He flared his wings, disappearing.

Alex looked up to see Crowley staring at her. He snapped his fingers, and Alex felt the familiar rub of an iron cuff around her ankle. "Better not try that again," he warned. Then he was gone.

Another spasm shook the young angel's body, and she coughed up even more blood. The iron tang sat on her tongue, but Alex was in too much pain to care. She curled up in the corner, eyes squeezed shut. Her broken wing was folded against her back, too painful to move.

 

 **S** he wasn't sure how much time passed, but at some point, there was a flutter of wings, and Alex scented Lucifer. She pulled her wing even closer to her, pressing her back into the wall. "I see that demon put it back on you," Lucifer growled, referring to the chain. He approached, kneeling down beside her. Alex buried her head into her chest. "Alex," the archangel growled, "don't be like that. Look at me." Alex refused. "Don't make me do anything," he warned.

Alex lifted her head. She spit out a mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor, eyes not meeting his. Then she lowered her head, resting it on the cold ground. She heard Lucifer grunt in approval, but made no movements.

"I am sorry I had to do this," he began, "but it was necessary. You will not escape, and you will obey me without question. Follow those two simple rules, and no more harm will come to you." He reached out, running a hand over Alex's good wing. She flinched, but refused to draw them back to expose herself. The devil's hand dipped down to her throat, and two fingers rested in the hollow beneath her adam's apple. Alex winced as she felt the icy warmth of his grace rush through her abdomen. Then the archangel pulled away and was gone.

 

**April 25th, 2010**

**S** he was alone for the next few days. Crowley didn't visit her again. Alex soon realized that unlike other angels, her appearance didn't remain clean. Her clothes became old and torn, and her blonde hair grew dirty. However, she had stopped coughing up blood — the internal bleeding had been the one thing Lucifer had healed — and had become much more mobile. Finally, on the forth day, she heard something move at the door. It was flung open, and there stood Sam Winchester. "Hurry," he whispered, "We don't have much time."

Alex put her arms on her hips and gave him a skeptical look.

"Come on. Dean's waiting outside."

"Very funny." Alex sat back down on the bed.

Sam stepped into the room and closed the door. "You know what? You're no fun." He crossed his arms and let his large, crimson wings become visible and flare wide. Alex could now see their true size, much bigger than Castiel's or hers.

"My apologizes." Alex crossed her arms as well. "Since when did you even have a sense of humor?"

Lucifer frowned in displeasure, and straightened his jacket. "I have a very good sense of humor," he retorted.

Alex snorted in disbelief. "Right."

"Well, at least you're talking to me. I like this vessel." Lucifer took of his military jacket and looked to toss it on the chair, only to see it had been smashed. He frowned.

Alex watched him drop it on the heap of broken wood. "You like him?" she snapped. "Wow. Never would have guessed."

Lucifer frowned. "Don't you like it? I figured it would remind you of home." He walked up to Alex. The bed creaked as Lucifer sat down. "I have all of his memories," he said casually, voice taking on a distant tone as he shifted through Sam's past. "He eats quite a bit of salads, doesn't he? Strange things, salads."

Alex stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed and stood facing away from him. "He's kinda hypoglycemic, dumbass," she huffed. "If he eats a lot of crap, his blood sugar crashes."

"I know that," the archangel replied calmly. "However, I still like this vessel. He's taller than the last."

"Yeah," Alex shot back scathingly. "I've noticed."

The bed creaked again as Lucifer stretched out across it. "He's a bit tall to fit on the bed though."

"Good. You can sleep on the floor," Alex responded. Hands grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down onto the bed.

Lucifer grinned. "I don't think so." Alex tried to resist, but the archangel was too strong. "Don't," he growled quietly. Alex went plaint, and Lucifer smiled. "Good girl." He pulled her up close to him. Alex's nose twitched. Lucifer's scent filled the room, but he also smelled strongly of Sam. Alex breathed in again, and even picked up faint traces of Dean and Cas. At the scent of her angel, she let out an involuntary sigh and felt her resolve strengthen. Lucifer tilted his head. "What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's just weird to see you like this," she lied. "Dressed like Sam and all." She sat up. "You even smell like him."

Lucifer pulled her back down. He wrapped his arms around Alex's waist, and Alex felt goosebumps run up her arms. She focused on Castiel's scent in an attempt to block out everything else. "You know," she finally snapped as Lucifer mindlessly stroked her hip with his thumb, "most people would consider this a fucking assault —" She immediately cut herself off as the archangel tightened his grip, and she flinched.

However, Lucifer paused for several seconds before responding. "I prefer the . . . more traditional way of doing things," he finally said. Alex opened her mouth to growl something out, but the archangel wasn't done. "Much has changed since I last walked the earth. The female sex values different things now. They use to look for a male who could protect them, someone who was strong and capable. Now what do you value? Sex, money?" The archangel let out a huff.

"Respect?" Alex added scathingly.

Lucifer tipped his head to look at her, and Alex shifted away, his face too close for comfort. "You will have my respect when you have earned it," he promised. "When you have my trust. When you no longer lie or try to escape." Suddenly Lucifer sat up. "Do you smell Castiel?" he asked.

Alex scented the air. "No," she lied.

"Don't move." The archangel stood up and walked towards the door. He opened it and stepped outside. Alex debated whether she should make a break for it, but she knew her chain didn't reach, and she didn't want to disobey his order. She had learned her lesson last time. Lucifer returned, nostrils flaring as he smelled the air. Suddenly he stopped. He raised the hem of his plaid shirt and sniffed it. Grunting, he quickly unbuttoned it and threw in on the ground with the jacket. Then he returned to the bed. Alex diverted her eyes from Sam's well-muscled chest. Lucifer laughed and laid back down on the bed.

"There. Now I doesn't smell like that pitiful angel." He pulled Alex back down to him. Then he grabbed Alex's wrist and brought it up to his heart. "I can feel Sam inside my head," he sighed. "Trying to get into my memories, see if there's a way to stop me." He grinned. "Let's give him some memories, huh?" He adjusted Alex so her head was laying on his bare chest. "Maybe something of you and me? Any preferences?" He laughed as he felt Alex stiffen. "It's funny. I can feel his reaction."

Alex let out a quiet growl.

"Quiet down." They lay in silence for several seconds. "You know, tomorrow I have meet my brother. Do you know what happens?"

"Yeah," Alex mumbled.

"And what happens?"

"Well, you don't die."

She flinched as Lucifer tightened his grip on her wrist. "Don't lie to me, girl," he warned.

"I'm not," Alex protested. "You don't die, Michael definitely doesn't win. Promise."

This seemed to satisfy Lucifer. "And what of Castiel?"

Alex swallowed nervously. "He is killed." She closed her eyes. "By you."

Alex felt Lucifer's chest move up and down as he let out a laugh. "Good." He closed his eyes.

"Can I come?" Alex asked suddenly.

"Where?" Lucifer didn't open his eyes.

"With you. Tomorrow."

"And why would I let you do that?" he asked.

Alex shrugged. "Castiel is going to be there."

"You want to see me kill him?" Lucifer asked unbelievingly.

"I want to see him one last time," Alex admitted. "Before you kill him."

Lucifer was silent for several moments. "We'll see," he finally said. "Only if you promise to behave."

"Promise."

"Good. Because if you break that promise . . ." He squeezed Alex's wrist so hard she thought it was going to break.

She nodded. "I promise, I promise," she whimpered. A tear slipped down her cheek and landed on his chest. Lucifer wiped it away. He buried his nose into her hair and inhaled. He let go her her wrist and wrapped his arms around Alex's waist, pulling her even closer to him. Alex closed her eyes, clinging on to the fading scent of her angel.

 

 **A** few hours later Lucifer shifted. He gently shook Alex, who yawned and opened her eyes. "Time to get up." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching out his new back. Alex rolled over, but didn't get out of bed. "Get up," Lucifer snapped loudly.

Alex jumped, and got to her feet, stifling a yawn. She watched as Sam, no, _Lucifer_ , redressed. He slipped on his jacket and ran his hands through is long hair. He looked over at Alex, who was watching him quietly. He motioned for her to approach, and she did so obediently. He reached out and ran his hands through her tangled blonde hair. Alex blushed faintly, and he smiled. His hands rested on her shoulders and looked down at her. She only came up to about his neck.

He cupped her cheek with one hand to raise her face and bent down to meet her lips. Alex flinched, looking up at the face of Sam. He kissed her gently, running his fingers down her soft jawline. His wings completely enveloped them, hiding them from prying eyes. He broke the kiss, staring into her eyes. They were a soft grey with blue and green flecks. He kissed her again. Alex neither moved away nor kissed back. She stood there silently, waiting for him to finish. Lucifer bit down on her bottom lip, drawing blood. Then he broke away. Alex drew her thumb across her lip, wiping off the thick red liquid. The corner of the devil's lip was drawn up into a smirk. "Are you ready?" he asked. Alex nodded, holding back a growl. He raised his wings, ready to take off. Alex shifted her leg, reminding Lucifer of the chain around her ankle. She heard a snap of the fingers, and felt the metal cuff fell off.

The next thing she knew she was standing in a graveyard. Sunlight shone down onto them, and Alex flinched, raising her hands to protect her from the sudden brightness. Lucifer laughed and gently pushed her back into a tree. "I can't have you going anywhere, now can I?" Alex found herself once again bound tight against the trunk. "You should have a good view from here," he promised. He turned around, scenting the air. Adam appeared in front of him. Large wings spread out from his shoulders, thick and white. "It's good to see you, Michael."

"You too." Michael acknowledged his brother with a nod. "It's been long. Are you ready?" He glanced over Lucifer's shoulder to see Alex. She lowered her gaze, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Lucifer took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be." Lucifer let out a small sigh. "A part of me wishes didn't have to do this."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Then why are we?"

"You know why." Michael's wings flared in agitation, but his voice remained calm. "I have no choice, after what you did."

Alex watched as the two brothers conversed. She found it interesting that Lucifer was arguing against fighting. From what she had thought of him before, she could have sworn he would be arguing for fighting.

"Please, Michael —"

Michael cut his brother off. "You know, you haven't changed a bit, little brother. Always blaming everybody but yourself. We were together. We were happy. But you betrayed me — all of us — and you made our Father leave."

"No one makes Dad do anything." Lucifer's wings dropped low in a pleading gesture, begging his brother to listen. "He is doing this to us."

"You're a monster, Lucifer. And I have to kill you."

"If that's the way it has to be . . ." the archangel's eyes hardened into chips of ice, "then I'd like to see you try." As Alex watched two smaller pairs of wings materialized, and all six flared up in a dominant display.

Michael did the same. They slowly paced in a circle, each brother sizing the other up, waiting for the other to make the first blow. Alex watched, wings pressed tightly against her back in fear. She focused on the rope, trying to break it with her grace, but it didn't budge.

The sound of a car caught her attention. The familiar sight of the Impala drove up through the gates. It stopped, and Dean got out. Alex let out a sigh of relief.

"We need to talk," she heard Dean say.

Michael spun around, angry at the intrusion. "You little maggot. You're no longer part of the story," he hissed.

"Hey ass-butt!" Alex watched as Castiel appeared with Bobby. Alex's heart skipped with joy, and she smiled as she realized Bobby was standing. He had his legs back. Castiel threw something at Michael, who was blocked from her sight by Lucifer. She heard a scream and saw tongues of fire reaching up to the sky.

"Ass-butt?" Dean raised an eyebrow at the angel.

"He'll be back - and upset - but you got your five minutes," Cas promised.

"Castiel. Did you just Molotov my brother with holy fire?" Lucifer asked angrily.

"Cas!" Alex yelled. She struggled against the ropes. She had to get free. She had to save Sam.

Castiel looked past Lucifer. "Alex?"

"Ah, I was hoping you would notice." Lucifer turned around to face Alex. The two smaller pairs of wings shimmered and disappeared, and his larger pair folded loosely against his his back. "And I thought you promised you would behave, _li mohaoth_." He clucked his tongue in disapproval. Castiel took a step forward angrily. Lucifer spoke so everyone could hear. "Well, li adna agi, I'll deal with you later."

Castiel snarled as Lucifer spoke. Lucifer smirked and leaned down, kissing Alex hard. Castiel roared, and Lucifer spun around.

"Cas!"

"Alex!" Castiel raced forward. Lucifer snapped his fingers, and the angel exploded in a rain of blood.

"Cas!" Alex screamed. Lucifer laughed coldly as a tear ran down Alex's face.

" _Li mohaoth_. You should have known." Lucifer turned his attention back to Dean.

Alex went limp, being supported only by the ropes. Even though she knew Cas would come back, she still cried, her tears running down her cheek and falling onto the grass below. She distantly heard a gun shot, and Dean yelled Bobby's name, followed by the thud as Dean was thrown against the car. She looked up, and through the tears saw Lucifer beating Dean, punching him again and again until his face was red and swollen.

"Please, stop!" she cried, but Lucifer didn't hear. He picked Dean up by the collar and balled up his fist. Suddenly he froze, staring at the Impala. He dropped Dean, who collapsed to the ground. As she watched, Sam dropped the four rings on the ground spoke three words, and the ground opened up. Michael appeared in front of him.

"Sam!" he yelled. "It's not gonna end this way! Step back."

"You're gonna have to make me." Sam stepped closer to the edge.

"I have to fight my brother, Sam. Here and now! It's my destiny."

Sam shook his head and stepped over the edge. Michael lunged forward trying to pull him back, but Sam grabbed him around the wrists and pulled him down with him.

"Sam!" Alex struggled even harder, then collapsed with a strangled cry. She couldn't save him. She couldn't even get herself free. They disappeared, and the ground closed, sealing them back in the cage. Alex hung her head, her body wracked with sobs. Dean leaned against the car. Alex heard a flutter of wings and saw Castiel appear.

"Cas, you're alive?" Dean looked up through his one good eye.

"I'm better than that." Cas reached out and touched Dean on the forehead. His bruises and cuts disappeared instantly.

"Are you God?" Dean asked quietly.

"That's a nice compliment, but no. Although I do believe he brought me back, new and improved." He turned around and knelt before Bobby's body. He touched him on the forehead, and Bobby stirred. Dean reached forward and picked up the horsemen's rings, holding them in his hand. Castiel stood up.

"Cas?" Alex called quietly. The angel turned. Dean and Bobby looked up.

Castiel stiffly approached. "What do you want?"

"What do you mean?" Alex searched the angel's face for any sign of emotion. Dean and Bobby hung back by the Impala, watching them quietly.

"Why did you leave me?" Cas's voice was tight.

"I didn't," Alex promised. "Please believe me." Castiel took a step backwards. "Cas," Alex whimpered. She stretched her good wing out towards him, trying to touch him. He held himself out of reach. "Please," she whispered. Tears filled her eyes, and one rolled down her already tear-streaked face.

"You _left_ me," Cas repeated, this time much quieter.

"I was _taken_." Alex strained her wings. "Please, Cas. Don't leave me here," she repeated. She flared her nostrils, trying to catch her angel's scent. Castiel stared into her grey eyes. A soft breeze blew past him, and Castiel smelled Lucifer. He took another step back.

"No," Alex begged quietly. "Don't go." She looked her angel in his bright blue eyes. "I need you, Cas."

Castiel felt his heart break in two. She looked so dejected, so scared, that his anger and fear melted away. He reached out his wings and touched their tips with Alex's. She let out a shaky breath, and Cas touched the ropes with his fingers. They snapped and fell at Alex's feet. Alex rushed forward and pulled Cas into a hug. Castiel wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in even closer. He rested his chin on her dirty, tangled hair. Alex buried her face into his shirt, breathing in deeply. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Alex nodded slightly.

Castiel took a step back to look at Alex. "He hurt you," he observed, eyes dark with worry.

"Nothing too bad," Alex lied. Castiel frowned. He reached forward and touched Alex gently on the head with two fingers. Then everything was gone.

 

 **A** lex blinked. She was in a bedroom. Alex looked around. "Cas?" she called. "Cas? Where are you?" No answer. She looked in the mirror, wincing at her own appearance. Her hair was dirty and matted, and her nose was broken, bent at an angle. She quickly made her way to the shower, really too tired to even care where she was. She locked the door, stripped, and stepped into the shower. The hot water gently pummeled her sore body, and Alex saw large bruises across her left ribs. Her left wing throbbed, and one of the joints was bent at an unusual angle. She washed the dirt and grime out of her hair before reluctantly turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. She redressed in clean clothes she found in the closet and dried and brushed her hair. Alex ran the hairdryer's warm air across her wings, drying them off as well. She tried moving the left one, wincing as she stretched it out. She bit back a cry of pain, and folded it against her back. Exiting the bathroom, Alex quickly looked around the house, seeing if her angel had returned. Still no sign of him. She finally settled down on the couch downstairs.

"You look better."

Alex jumped and looked behind her. "Thanks," she mumbled.

Castiel settled down on the couch beside her. He gently touched Alex's nose, and the pain was gone. Alex reached up and cautiously touched it; it felt like it had never been broken. "Where else does it hurt?" Castiel fixed his worried eyes on Alex. She wordlessly lifted her shirt to show him her ribs. Castiel frowned at the sight of the black and purple bruises. He gingerly brushed his hand over them. Alex gasped at the pain, but when she looked down, the bruises were gone. "Anywhere else?"

"I think he might have broken my wing." Alex tenderly extended her wing towards him.

Castiel examined it, and sat back. "I'm sorry. It's beyond my abilities. It will heal, but it will take time. Here. This might hurt." He softly grabbed either side of the joint, and with a swift motion, bent it back to its right shape. Alex screeched in pain. "It's okay." Castiel dropped the wing and wrapped his arm around Alex's shoulders. She tensed. Castiel noticed and dropped his arms. He stared at Alex somberly.

"Sorry." Alex was unable to meet his gaze. "I, I just . . ." she trailed off.

"It's okay." Castiel closed his eyes. "I understand. I don't want to do anything that reminds you of Lucifer. We'll get through this." He abruptly stood up. "I must get back to Dean. He needs me too."

"Cas." Her voice stopped the angel. "Where are we?"

"Heaven." Castiel's wings flared wide in pride. "I've been reconnected. And upgraded." He spread his wings. "They're larger."

Alex nodded. "So they are."

"I'm a seraphim now." Castiel's eyes sparked proudly. "No angel can change ranks. Only God can do that."

"Wow. That's amazing." Alex looked around. "So, uh, who's house is this?"

"This is ours." Castiel's wings stayed flared in possession. "Yours and mine." His eyes flashed quickly with trepidation. "Do you like it?" He looked to his left, where a tv was mounted against the wall, boxed in by two large bookshelves. "I, I - you like books, so I put in several bookcases. There's chocolate in the kitchen, because I know you love it." His eyes were slightly wide, and his voice was lined with some emotion Alex couldn't place.

"I love it," Alex promised. "It's our home." She looked up at the angel, a small smile on her face. "It's been a long time since I've had a home." She looked around. "I didn't know angels lived in houses. I thought you . . . I dunno. Lived in like, barracks or something."

Castiel tipped his head. "We don't live in barracks. Not all of us. Our living quarters are . . ." He paused, thinking of an adequate term. "They're more similar to your Roman style houses. However, I felt you would be more at home with something more . . . modern. For now, at least." Castiel motioned towards the stairs with a wing, continuing before Alex could respond. "There's only one extra bedroom upstairs, but we can always add more when we need them."

Alex smiled in disbelief. "We're in heaven, Cas. I doubt we'll be having many visitors that need sleep."

Castiel's eyes narrowed in confusion, then widened in what Alex could only describe as hurt. But it was gone so quickly that she could barely be sure. Then he was gone.

Alex let out a breath. Then she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It didn't matter now. Lucifer was back in the cage. Crowley was still on earth, but Alex was safe in heaven. No one could reach her here. _No one except another angel_ , a little voice in the back of her head reminded her. A flutter of wings caught Alex's attention. She stood up and turned, expecting Castiel. It was not. Hot terror shot down Alex's spine, and she took a step back, fists balled.

"Are you Alex?" the angel asked.

"Cas?" Alex called desperately, hoping her angel could hear her.

"Castiel is busy." The angel lowered his brown wings in an attempt to prove he was not a threat. "He sent me to protect you. My name is Koda." His voice carried a slight Irish accent.

Alex studied the angel warily. He was of average height with a small, skinny frame. Thick black hair stuck out in every direction, barely covering his large ears. His face was young, and blue eyes followed Alex's movement.

"What do you want?" Alex growled. She flared her wings, only to double over in pain as she moved her broken wing.

Koda watched Alex with sympathy. "Castiel set me to protect you," he repeated. "He didn't want to leave you alone."

"Prove it," Alex snarled.

Koda tipped his head to one side. "Excuse me?"

"I said prove it." Alex adjusted her stance defensively.

"Is it true? About you and Lucifer?" he asked instead.

Alex didn't respond directly. "I'm not going back," she swore.

"That's why I'm here," Koda promised. He turned towards the kitchen. "Is there food?"

Alex relaxed slightly. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I haven't exactly been around for the past week."

Koda nodded understandingly. "Mind if I check then?" When Alex shook her head, he made his way over to fridge.

"So how exactly do you know Cas?" Alex watched Koda warily.

"I was his boss. At least before he became a seraphim, like me." Koda stared at the fridge, then checked the cupboards. "Side note, I was the first angel to be born, not created."

"Really?" Alex walked around the couch and to the kitchen. She leaned against the wall.

"Yes. My father is the archangel Cassiel." Koda pulled out a bag of chips. "Mind if I open these?"

"Go ahead." Alex found herself warily enjoying the angel's company. "Who is your mother?"

"Her name was Bethel." The angel sighed. "She died several hundred years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Koda raised his wings. They reminded Alex of eagle's wings; they were brown, and the tips of the primary feathers were white. He smiled charmingly. "You want some?" He waved the bag in the air.

"No thank you," Alex declined politely.

"More for me." Koda walked back over to the couch and sat down. "Is your wing okay?"

"Cas says it's broken." Alex watched him warily. "And that he can't fix it. Which is weird because he was able to heal all of my other injuries."

"That sounds right." Koda nodded. "Unfortunately, even us angels can't heal a broken wing, no matter how much we want to." He snapped his fingers, and the tv flickered on.

"Aren't you suppose to be protecting me?" Alex joked.

"I am." Koda looked back at her. "Do you see any danger?"

"No."

"See? I'm doing a great job." Koda laughed at his own joke.

Alex let out a small smile. "You don't seem much like an angel," she said quickly. "I mean, you talk and joke like a human."

"I lived among them for several decades. Some angels do that, while others just watch from above." He shrugged. "I don't mind it."

"And . . . you're vessel—"

"I was born with it." Koda tipped his head back to study her. "Two human vessels create a human vessel. I can leave it if I choose, but personally I enjoy this one." He looked around the house. "Very modern. I like it." 

"Uh, yeah. Cas said this wasn't normal."

Koda nodded. "You should see the Great Halls," he told her. "That's where the archangels live."

"That's where you grew up?" 

"Yes. It's truly amazing. Heaven's greatest creation." He patted the cushion next to him. "Sit down."

"No thanks." Alex struggled to push sudden panic down. She didn't want to be anywhere near an angel, especially not that close. Not anymore.

Koda seemed to pick up on Alex's fear. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah." Alex tried to steady her voice.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly." Alex crossed her arms.

"Is this something about Lucifer?" Koda turned to face the female angel.

"I don't want to talk about it," Alex repeated stubbornly.

Koda looked concerned, but thankfully didn't push her. "Okay. But if you ever do, I'm always here to talk." He then turned back to his snack.

"I'll be upstairs." Alex quickly ran up the flight of stairs, glad to get away from the angel. She followed the hallway down to the second bedroom. She cracked open the door. It was smaller than the master bedroom and contained a small child's bed in the corner along with a large wardrobe against the near wall. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. _The extra bedroom. That's what Castiel had meant._ She leaned against the door and slumped down to the floor, her head in her hands. She didn't know what to do.

 

 **T** he light from window slowly faded, leaving Alex alone in the dark.

"Alex?" She faintly heard Koda call her name.

She cracked open the door. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"Fine." Alex stood up and walked out into the hall. She leaned over the railing to see the angel standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her worriedly. "I'm going to go to bed," she informed him.

"Okay." Koda returned to the couch.

Alex disappeared into the bedroom. She sat down on the bed and crawled under the covers. There she lay, lost in her own thoughts. Eventually she drifted into a fitful sleep.

 

 **A** lex knew she was dreaming. She knew because he couldn't be here. Not here, not now. Alex struggled against her ropes, finding herself once more tied to a chair. "Guess what, _le adna agi_." Lucifer sat perched on the table in front of her. He grinned evilly. "I'm back." He studied Alex and frowned playfully. "Don't pretend you're not glad to see me." He looked down at his appearance, which had returned to the form of Nick, not Sam. However, he no longer had the burn-like wounds covering his face. "Unfortunately, I seem to have lost my Sam-suit after landing back in the cage. Too bad. I liked wearing him." He grinned again. "But back to you."

Alex let out a wordless hiss.

"If I had to, I'd bet you knew I was going back to the cage, hmm?" He leaned in.

Alex pulled the corner of her mouth up into a smile, anger glittering in her eyes.

Lucifer stood up and approached Alex. "I thought you promised not to lie to me." He squatted down in front of her so his head was level with hers. "You know, I invented lying."

"You don't give me the chance to forget," Alex spat back.

The devil acted offended. "So much attitude is so little an angel." Alex just glared at him. He met her gaze confidently. "Look at all that anger," he remarked. "I like that." He laughed when Alex looked away.

 

 **C** astiel watched Alex sleep. She tossed and turned, then stopped, and let out a small whimper. Anger surged through him, followed by heart-wrenching pity. He sat down on the bed and tenderly scooped her up into his arms. She whimpered again and clutched at his shirt. Cas leaned back against the headboard, rocking her gently. "Le pas enay," he whispered, "what has he done to you?"


	52. Hopeless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Again with the Breaking Benjamin titles. I'm using rock titles, sue me :)
> 
> Also, this chapter, along with the past few, are some of the first ones written, and I didn't have enough time yesterday to fully edit, so I apologize if some of the writing is subpar. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> I will not be able to post a chapter tomorrow as I am staying at my Grandma's and they have really crappy wifi.

**S** everal days passed, and no sign of Castiel. Alex began to worry, afraid something was wrong. She became good friends with Koda, who did not hesitate to share in her concern. He also introduced her to his three other brothers; Elijah, Emmanuel, and Ezekiel. Emmanuel, the same angel who had saved her life, turned out to be really nice, and often came to visit. He quickly got the nickname "Wells" from Alex, not that he minded.

 

 **T** he days came and went. Alex spent her time watching TV. One day, after finishing a particularly good movie, Alex glanced out the window and was surprised to see the sun starting to fall towards the horizon. Checking the clock, she saw it was almost 6 o'clock. She got up and made her way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. There was still very little food in there, and she let out a small sigh.

A deep voice sounded behind her. "What are you doing?"

Alex jumped. "I was looking for dinner," she explained, keeping her eyes of the fridge.

"Don't bother. We're going out." Cas stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. Alex froze, but didn't resist. "I'm sorry I haven't been here in a while," the angel apologized.

"It's okay."

"How are you doing?" Castiel stepped back, and Alex turned around to face him.

"I'm okay."

"Getting over Lucifer?"

Alex winced slightly at the name. The truth was, she still had nightmares.

Castiel noticed. “I’m sorry. But you're feeling better around me?"

He held out both hands, and Alex took them. "I'm willing to give it a try," she promised. "Dinner, you said?"

Cas smiled again. "Go get ready."

Alex ran upstairs. She dug through the duffle bag and pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans. Not finding any nice tops, she slipped on a clean black t-shirt. Then she grabbed Dean's old, green military jacket. She hesitated, knowing Castiel didn't like it when she wore Dean's clothes _It might be cold,_ she reasoned to herself. _If not, I can always take it off._ With that, she hurried back down the stairs.

 

 **"W** here are we?" Alex looked around. Cas had flown them into the middle of a small street, lined with shops.

"Atlanta, Illinois." Castiel put his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. He still wore his suit and a dark blue tie hung loosely around his neck. Alex pulled her hands up into sleeves of the faded jacket. Castiel had frowned when she had come downstairs with it on, but had said nothing. However, now Alex was thankful for it; the sun had gone down, and the air was growing cool.

"Illinois?" Alex looked up at him. "Any special reason?"

"They have good food." Cas looked forward. "This is one of the favorite places for angels. So be careful."

"Be careful?" Alex scoffed. "Why'd you bother bringing me here at all, then?"

"I told you. They have good food. You will like it." Cas set off a brisk pace down the street.

Alex ran off after him. Suddenly, rough hands grab her shoulder. "Hey!" Alex spun around to find herself facing a five young men.

"Well, what have we got here?" the one who had grabbed her laughed. Silver wings furled outwards from his shoulders, reaching towards the sky.

"Shove off." Alex brushed his hand off her shoulder.

The man laughed again, and the other four joined him."This one's got a little bit of a fight." Alex turned to leave, but one of the angels blocked her way. "Leaving already?"

"I told you, shove off," Alex growled, turning back to the angel. She balled her fists, ready to fight.

"Don't take the tone of voice with me, girl," the angel growled back. "Now tell me, what's a pretty little female angel doing out here without a mate?"

"She's with me." Relief filled Alex as she heard Castiel's deep voice.

She tried to push her way between two angels. They didn't let her through. "Cas?" she called. She threw a punch at the angel to her left, and he doubled over in pain. She brought her elbow down on his back, sending him to the ground. The angel to her right swung at her, but Alex ducked, and elbowed him in the ribs. He stumbled, and Alex tried to run forward to Cas.

A hand grabbed her around the arm, dragging her back into the gang leader's chest. "Not bad." His voice sounded right next to her ear. "You're a fighter, eh?"

"I'm a hunter," Alex growled.

"Leave her alone, Zuriel." Cas stepped forward. He stretched his wings high above his head.

Zuriel laughed. "Why should I?" He adjusted his grip, crossing one arm across Alex's chest. With the other hand he grabbed her head, tilting it to one side, forcing Alex into a submissive position. She let out a snarl. Zuriel ran a finger across her neck. "Are you sure she's yours? I don't see any mark." Something heavy pushed on her chest, and Alex struggled to get it off. He sniffed her neck. "She doesn't even smell like you," he grinned. He wrapped his wings around Alex, pulling her closer.

"Let. Her. Go." Cas let out a wordless snarl and lunged at Zuriel. He was blocked by the other four angels. One angel went flying. Alex watched as Castiel fought; his trench coat flared out as he spun around, lashing out left and right.

Seeing that they were losing, Zuriel started dragging Alex down the street. He raised his wings, preparing to fly away.

Alex began to panic.Thinking fast, she popped her head up into his chin. Pain flashed through her skull, but she pushed it away. Zuriel cried out and let her go. Alex spun around and punched him in the nose. She felt the satisfying crack as it broke. She backed away. Zuriel followed warily. His face was twisted in pain, but his eyes were filled with anger. The four angels who were fighting Cas fell in line behind Zuriel. Several were bleeding. Faced with all five, Alex raised her wings, trying to appear bigger than she was. She cried out at the pain, however, and was forced to lower them again. She continued backing up.

Suddenly the angels stopped. Alex felt someone walk up and stand behind her. She glanced back to see Castiel, wings stretched high over his head. Anger blazed across his face. He put one hand on her shoulder, and an angel blade glinted in his other. Castiel and Zuriel stared at each other, wings held high. Tension filled the air, and Alex could almost hear Castiel's possession.

_Mine._

Zuriel backed down, lowering his gaze and wings. With a flutter of wings, he was gone. The other angels followed, leaving Alex alone with Castiel in the street.

"Are you okay?" Castiel finally asked.

"Yeah." Alex closed her eyes. She leaned back into Cas' chest, finding comfort in his solid presence. Cas put his arms around her chest, and Alex turned around, pressing her cheek into his shirt. He held her tight, wrapping his wings around Alex's.

Finally Cas let her go. "Let's get something to eat." He led her down the street, one arm laid across her shoulder.

 

 **H** e led her into a small diner down the street. He sat down in the far booth, Alex across from him. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again after he had ordered for both of them.

"Yes," Alex answered, exasperated. "Stop asking me that." Cas grew quiet. The waitress brought them their food, and they sat in silence for a while. The diner was almost empty. A man sat at the other end, sipping a cup of coffee. "What did Zuriel mean?" Alex broke the quietness. "About not having a mark?"

Castiel said nothing, he just stared out into the street.

"Well?" Alex prompted him. Cas looked uncomfortable, but refused to make eye contact. "Cas? What is it?" Alex leaned forward, her eyes filled with guarded curiosity mixed with a touch of fear.

Castiel turned his attention to Alex. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair before he began. "It's the way angels tell if a female angel is mated," he finally said.

"And . . ." Alex prompted.

"And what?"

"And everything. What are you not telling me?" Alex stared into Cas' bright blue eyes.

Cas looked around. "This isn't a good place to talk about it," he whispered.

"And why not?" Alex crossed her arms.

"Fine. You want to know about it? Here it is." Cas took a deep breath. "Zuriel was looking to tell if you had a mate. When females mate, they . . . receive a . . . bonding mark, usually on their neck or collarbone."

"And how do they get the mark?" Alex inquired.

"Well, it's a bite mark. Only angels can see it." Cas blushed faintly, obviously unwilling to discuss the interworking of sex at a diner.

"Seriously?" Alex stared at the angel. "Like some sort of kinky alpha omega shit?" When Castiel just looked confused, Alex added, "So Zuriel was looking to see if I had a mate?"

"Yes. Females can take on mates when they turn seventeen."

"And how do the other angels know?"

"It's complicated. They can tell in a lot of ways."

"Yeah, well, define complicated." Alex put her burger down and rested her elbows on the table. "Is it through smell?" She turned her head to sniff at Dean's jacket; she liked his smell.

"Yes -- sort of. Angels do usually carry the scent of their mates. To keep other potential mates away."

"So what?" Alex laughed nervously. "You think I'm your mate?"

Cas looked away.

"Oh." Alex looked down at her food, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Alex." Alex looked up to meet Castiel's gaze. She immediately regretted it. Cas was looking at her desperately. His eyes seemed both hopeful and hopeless at the same time. Alex felt her heart break. Part of her wanted to go over to him and hold him tight, but she stayed where she was.

"No, I'm sorry," she said with genuine sadness, and reached over and grabbed his large, rough hand.

"I've made you sad," Cas observed quietly.

"It's not your fault," Alex promised. "I'm new to this whole 'angel' thing, so I'm sorry if I say something, uh, offensive."

"I understand. And I will try to explain things you may not understand," Castiel promised.

"Thank you." Alex dropped his hand. "And I know nothing about being an angel, so you've got your work cut out for you." She picked up a fry and chewed it carefully. "For example, I thought angels didn't have to eat or sleep."

Cas mimicked Alex by picking up a fry. "It's complicated. Angels do not need to eat or sleep while on earth." He paused, thinking. "Angels don't exactly sleep, as you human do. It's more of a change in consciousness than a REM cycle. However, it is possible for an angel go into REM sleep while inhabiting a vessel." He stared down at the fry. "Eating is not exactly pleasant while on earth, but it is possible."

"Not pleasant?"

"Our Father constructed our sense of taste to be much stronger than humans. The food on earth tastes too . . ." The angel searched for an appropriate English word, "too . . . busy. I can taste every chemical compound."

"Okay, good to know." Alex looked down at his food. "But you're still eating?"

"You were hungry."

Alex shook her head. "You could have told me. I would have understood." She paused, a question coming to mind that she didn't want to ask, but needed to know the answer. "And . . . why do angels have to, you know . . . bite?"

The angel hesitated, and a faint blush spread across his cheeks. "During intercourse, our Father designed for man and woman to become one," Castiel finally began. "While humans only do this physically, angels become one both physically and spiritually." He looked down at his plate. "The mark isn't so much a bond in itself, but more of physical . . . gateway."

Something pushed gently against her; it wasn't physical, similar to what Zuriel had done, but different feeling.

"There'll be a time when you can tell an angel just by his grace," the angel said quietly. "When two angels mate, their graces combine. They literally become one. It can only be undone by one's death or if one remates."

"O-Okay, but still. Is the biting necessary?"

"Yes. It . . ." Castiel searched for the right words, "completes the circuit, I suppose. For graces to fuse together, it takes both the bite and the sexual intercourse. Our Father . . . left before heaven learned how to, um . . . make female angels, for a lack of a better term. Before we learned how to infuse grace into a human and have her become one of us. Perhaps he would have created a better option, but biting is the only way any angel has been able to join graces." He paused. "Some angels choose not to bite."

"But . . ." Alex sensed the tone of his voice.

"But that's not what I want. That's not how it's suppose to be." Castiel blushed, not meeting her eyes. "If I don't fully join with you, you can't become pregnant."

 

Alex looked away. Great. This was awkward. _Pregnant?_ She didn't want that. She was barely twenty, dammit.

"We should go," Castiel said suddenly. Alex stood up as well, cocking her head in confusion. Cas glanced at man sitting at the other side of the diner, who was watching them intently. Cas led the way out of the restaurant, his feathers ruffled. Alex followed warily.

 

 **T** he next few days passed quickly. Alex gradually overcame her overall fear of angels and her awkwardness around Castiel, and the two of them quickly grew close.

One day, as Alex was reading on the couch, Castiel appeared next to her. "Hey," Alex smiled up at him.

"Hey yourself." Cas sat down on the couch next to her. Alex shifted, leaning her back against the armrest and bringing her legs up onto the cushions.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Nothing." Cas turned his head to look at her.

"Uh, yeah, ok." Alex glanced down at her book, startled by the intensity in his blue eyes.

Castiel shifted. Alex looked back up at him. For several seconds they just stared at each other. Alex let out a lopsided smile. "Can I help you?" she finally asked. She was completely unprepared for what followed.

With a flutter of dark wings, Cas pushed himself between Alex's legs, planting his arms on either side of her waist. His face hovered over hers for a mere second, and Alex's breath caught in her throat as grey eyes met blue. Then Cas kissed her. It was slow and hesitant. Alex sat there, shocked, as his chapped lips brushed against hers. Her head spun, and the book dropped from her hand. He pulled away, his eyes nervously searching Alex's face. Alex turned the corners of her mouth into a tiny smile. Relief flooded Castiel's face, and he leaned in again. He pressed his lips against hers, harder this time, drawing his wings around them, his feathers slightly ruffled. After several long seconds Alex placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away.

"Don't push it, Casanova," she joked kindly, completely light-headed with shock and joy.

"That's not my name." Castiel sat back on the couch and stared at her, confused.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Never mind." She let it go. She picked up her book. "Hey, are you hungry?" she suddenly asked. She stood up and walked over to the kitchen. Castiel followed. Alex opened the freezer, which was nearly as empty as the fridge. Frowning, she pulled out a carton of ice cream. "You need to restock the food, my friend," she laughed, bumping him with her hip.

"I was hoping I was more than that." Castiel wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for another kiss. She kissed him back, then tossed the ice cream on the island, grabbing two spoons out of the drawer. She sat down on the island, feet dangling above the floor. She held out a spoon to Castiel before tearing off the lid and diving in. She stuck the ice cream in her mouth before offering the container to Castiel. He took a bite, then dropped the spoon on the on the counter next to her.

Alex licked the spoon clean, reaching for another bite. However, Castiel took the container from her hands and placed it beside her.

He let out a small smile, and leaned in. Alex kissed him back, wrapping her slender arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Castiel obliged, winding his arms through hers. His mouth opened slightly against hers, and teeth teased at her bottom lip. Alex tilted her head, deepening the kiss, wondering somewhere in the back of her mind how Cas got this good. She ran her hands through his soft hair. She tasted ice cream, and laughed. Castiel pulled away, confused. Alex laughed again, eyes sparkling, and pulled him back in for another kiss. He happily consented.

After what felt like forever, yet at the same time only a mere second, they broke apart. Alex looked up to see his pupils blown. She jumped off the counter and walked across to the fridge, looking for a drink. Castiel stood behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, peppering her neck with kisses.

Alex squirmed playfully. "You, sir, are persistent."

"It's the only way to get what I want," Castiel mumbled back, burying his nose into her neck. Alex leaned back, resting her head against his shoulder. She turned around in his arms, and Castiel flared his wings around them, blocking them from view.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Alex pulled his head down to hers. She pressed her forehead into his. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" she asked kindly, referring to his garrison.

"Yes. Right here."

Alex closed her eyes as she felt his breath on her lips. They ached in need, but she stubbornly refused to give in quite yet. "I was talking about your garrison. Don't they need you?"

"They'll survive," Castiel grunted. "Right now, you need me more."

"Oh?" Alex raised her eyebrow playfully. "And what does that mean?"

Castiel effectively silenced her with a kiss. Alex melted into him; for her, he was the only thing in the world that mattered right now.

Finally he broke away. "Dammit," he cursed under his breath. Alex looked up, confused and hurt. Castiel scented the air and turned around. Even more confused, Alex smelled the air as well, surprised to find another scent in the air. She peered around Castiel to see a familiar angel standing in the living room. "Balthazar." Castiel acknowledged the angel. "What do you want?"

Balthazar smiled. "Hello to you too, Castiel." He tilted his head at the sight of Alex. "Is this the lovely female angel I've heard about?" He stepped forward, wings arched in interest. Alex stepped forward to stand beside Castiel. She reached down and took his hand, threading her fingers through his. Balthazar grinned again. "Apparently."

"What do you want?" Castiel repeated.

"Castiel." The angel turned his attention away from Alex. "You are needed back at the garrison." His eyes flashed. "Abdiel is at it again."

Castiel let out a breath. "Can't you deal with him on your own?" he asked sharply.

Balthazar looked offended, his amber feathers ruffling. "Do you have any idea what he's like?"

"Yes. And I know what its like to have to listen to you two fight," Castiel shot back, slightly angry that he had been interrupted for this. He held Balthazar's gaze for a few seconds. "Fine," he consented. He turned to Alex. "I'll be back soon." He raised his wings and disappeared.

Balthazar hesitated, studying Alex. She flared her good wing, baring her teeth slightly at him.

He smiled. "Cute." Then he disappeared.

Alex walked back to the couch, sitting down. He had kissed her. He had _kissed_ her. Oh my god. Alex closed her eyes, slowing her breathing. How had she gotten here? Sure, she had liked Cas, but nothing like what she felt now. He had _kissed_ her. Her, of all people. And not just once. All of her trepidation towards Castiel melted away, and she let out a broad smile. She couldn't deny it anymore. She loved him. _God. I'm such a teenager,_ Alex laughed to herself. She picked back up her book, trying to read, but her mind kept wandering. He had kissed her.

 

 **T** he night came quickly, and Alex changed into a more comfortable tank top and basketball shorts. She returned down to the couch, picking up her book. After a few minutes, she heard a flutter of wings, and looked up to see Castiel appear. "Hey. You're back late." She put down her book and walked over to him.

"My apologizes." Castiel kissed her briefly, making Alex's heart flutter. "I had trouble with Abdiel and Balthazar."

Alex murmured sympathetically, having heard many times how those two angels always fought. She looked up into his tired blue eyes.

"I'm going to bed." Castiel slowly climbed the stairs.

"I'll be up in a few minutes," Alex called after him. She settled back on the couch, returning to her book. She hurriedly finished the chapter, made a quick sweep of the ground floor, turning off the lights, locking the doors, etc, — it probably wasn’t necessary, but hunter’s habit — and headed up the stairs. Entering the bedroom, she saw Castiel lying on the bed, wearing an strangely out-of-character t-shirt and sweatpants. At the sound of the door, he opened his eyes. They lit up when they saw Alex. He patted the bed, and Alex obliged, sitting down next to him. She lay down, putting her head on his shoulder, wrapping an arm across his bare chest. Castiel pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. She tilted her head up to meet his lips.

"Now where were we?" Castiel mumbled, pulling her close. Alex let out a quiet laugh. Cas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her on top of him. Alex kissed him slowly, relishing in the heat of his warm chest. Castiel flared his wings up and around her, hiding them from prying eyes. Alex flared her wings as well, pressing them against the insides of his. Their feathers meshed together, black and gold against blue. Castiel ran his fingers through her long hair, curling it around his fingers. He gently pulled her hair back, and Alex arched her spine. Castiel kissed her neck, trailing them back up to her lips. He kissed her passionately, and Alex easily matched his intensity. She ran her hands up his chest, and tangled her fingers in his dark hair. Alex suddenly let of a laugh against his lips. Castiel pulled his head slightly away. "Stop laughing when I kiss you," he mumbled. This made Alex laugh even harder. She rolled off of the angel, her body shaking with peals of laughter. Castiel turned on his side, watching her. "I don't understand. Why are you laughing?"

Alex shook her head. "I don't even know," she admitted between gasps. She rolled over to face the older angel, still smiling. "I'm sorry." She bit her lip, trying to stop.

"Whatever." Castiel pulled her into his chest. She buried her head into his shoulder. Castiel snapped his fingers, and the lights flicked off, leaving them in the dark. He laid his wing across her side. Alex snuggled even closer, comforted by his presence. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you too, Cas," Alex yawned.

"I mean it, Alex." Alex could make out the faint gleam of his blue eyes. "I _love_ you. More than anything." He pressed a light kiss on her forehead. "I want to spend the next ten thousand years with you. I want to have a thousand fledglings with you, and I am _never_ going to give you up for anything."

Alex closed her eyes, warmth flooding through her. She could feel the strength of emotions behind his words, and she smiled. "Me too," she whispered into his chest. She sighed quietly, thinking over his words. "A thousand, eh?"

"Huh?" Castiel murmured, eyes closed. "Thousand what?"

"Thousand fledglings?" Alex ran light fingers down his sides to his hips. "That's quite a bit."

"We have all the time in the heavens." Castiel promised quietly. He let out a low growl, full of pure possession. It resonated through his chest and into his wings. "You are _mine_ ,” he whispered quietly.

In the darkness, Alex smiled. She inhaled, her angel's scent swirling through her mind. It comforted her, and she was able to fall into a blissful sleep.

 

 **S** he woke the next morning. She felt Castiel pressed into her back, a hand around her stomach holding her tight. His head was buried in her neck, and his breath gently stirred her hair. Alex shifted slightly, trying to disentangle herself from the angel without waking him. It didn't work. "Don't," Castiel growled into her neck, his voice still heavy with sleep. Alex obliged. She lay still, relishing in the feeling of the warm body next to her. Cas pressed a long kiss on the back of her neck, pulling her even closer.

"Shouldn't we get up?" Alex whispered.

"What's the hurry?" Cas whispered back, gently nibbling on her earlobe. Alex responded by leaning back into him.

"Fair point," she smiled. The hand on her stomach began to move, running light fingers down her shirt. It slipped under the soft fabric, rough skin against smooth. Cas drew small patterns that grew larger and more complex by the minute. He traced her ribs, making Alex shiver. He ran his hand down, circling her navel, before stopping by her hips. He ran a finger over her sharp hipbone, trailing it across to the other, creating more patterns on its way. Alex jumped when two fingers slipped below the waistband of her shorts.

"Cas," she started to protest, rolling over to face him. Cas silenced her with a kiss. One strong arm snaked around to her back, pulling her into his broad chest. He propped himself up on his elbows, hovering over her. His head tilted, making the kiss more heated and ferocious. His tongue ran over her bottom lip, and Alex opened her mouth, letting him take control. He happily obliged. Alex reached up, wrapping her arms around his back, tracing the strong muscles up to his wings, flared high above. They folded forward, enveloping them in a soft shroud of blue. Alex let out a soft gasp when the angel lowered himself completely onto her, pushing her down into the sheets, his lips never leaving hers. He rolled his hips, and Alex instinctively pushed up into him. Fingers ran down her sides, and thumbs hooked themselves under the waistband of her shorts. However, Alex protested, struggling to throw the angel off of her.

Castiel, realizing something was wrong, leaned back, his eyes gazing questioningly into hers, thumbs still on her hips. He tugged on her shorts ever so lightly, and Alex squirmed again, trying to get him off. His eyes widen slightly, darkening with hurt. He rolled off of her, quietly slipping off the bed. Alex watched him cross the room, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor. He stopped by the bay window, staring out, wings drooping. Alex's heart broke. "Cas?" she asked softly. The angel gave no response. Alex sat up. She felt terrible. She slipped out of bed, slowly approaching. "Cas?"

"What do you want?" the angel asked tiredly, refusing to look at her.

Alex closed her eyes. "I'm sorry--"

"Do you love me?" Castiel interrupted her.

"What?" Alex paused, caught off guard by the questioning.

Castiel turned around. "Yes or no," he repeated softly. "Do you love me?"

"I do love you," Alex said quietly, "but--"

"But what?" His blue eyes searched hers desperately. "But what, Alex? I don't understand. What am I doing wrong?"

"You're not doing anything wrong," Alex promised. "It's just . . ."

"Just what?" Castiel's voice rose in frustration.

"I don't know!" Alex snapped. "Okay? I don't know." She took a deep breath. "I'm just not ready, okay? It's not your fault."

"You're my mate." Cas' voice cracked with sadness.

"I know." Alex curled her wings forward, extending her wingtips, an intimate gesture. The angel made no move to return the gesture, Alex's wings drooped, crestfallen. "And I'm sorry, but I can't. Not yet. Not, not with Lucifer, and . . ." she trailed into silence.

Castiel let out a heavy sigh. "I understand," he finally said.

"Just give me time," Alex continued.

"I said I understand." Castiel cut her off, more harshly than he had intended. Alex flinched, but said nothing. The male angel closed his eyes, pulling her into a soft hug. "I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh," was all Alex said. She rested her head on his chest, breathing deeply. She felt Castiel curl his wings forward slightly, keeping her close.

"Alex," Castiel began. "Please. Come back to bed. I . . . we need to consummate. We're not truly mates until we've bonded. I don't want to push you, and I've given you days, but . . ."

Alex shook her head. "I'm sorry, Cas. I, I'm just not ready."

Castiel just closed his eyes.


	53. The Great Divide

**T** he next day, Alex was in the living room, reading her book, listening to the radio. She suddenly paused, listening. She recognized the song. _Hey There Delilah._ It sparked something in her mind, something from back home. She turned off the music, thinking through the words. Then she began to sing.

 _Hey there Castiel, well I'm sure you've heard me calling_  
_You're a thousand miles away yet somehow I know you're still listening_  
You must be  
_What’s free will's point if I'm not free?_  
_'Cause you've trapped me_

 _Hey there Castiel why'd you bother pulling me out?_  
_'Cause without you I'm right back in Hell_  
_And frankly I'd take burning over this._  
_All of my prayers you just dismiss_  
_It's you I miss_

 _Oh, why won't you answer me? Oh, why won't yo answer me?_  
_Oh, why won't you answer me? Oh, why won't you answer me?_  
_Please just answer me._

 _Hey there Castiel, you know all things fall apart_  
_It's unavoidable it happens, cities rise and fall like art_  
_Yet still we've hoped._  
_For years we've clung onto this rope._  
_We've hung till choked._

 _Hey there Castiel, I've still got so much left to say_  
_If every little prayer I sent you could erase this all away_  
_I'd send them all._  
_And then you'd never have to fall._  
_You'd still have it all._

 _Oh, why can't you answer me? Oh, why can't you answer me?_  
_Oh, why can't you answer me? Oh, why can't you answer me?_

 _Cas now it's been much to long_  
_For me, this once, just play along_  
_I need to know if you're going to be okay._  
_Our friends are trying to be strong, but on their faces it clear as dawn_  
_That none of them have wanted it this way._  
_Cas now things are getting rough_  
_Yesterday's hope won't be enough_  
_Come morning I will never be the same_  
_And you're to blame._

 _Hey there Castiel well I'm sure you've heard me calling_  
_You're a thousand miles away yet now I know that you're not listening._  
_Now I see._  
_Once I deigned to call you family._  
_Now I need you like you needed me._

 _Hey there Castiel, can't you see?_  
_You set me free._

 _Oh, why won't you answer me? Oh, why won't you answer me?_  
_Oh, why won't you answer me? Oh, why won't you answer me?_  
_Please just answer me._

 

She ended, rather pleased that she could remember the whole song.

"You have a beautiful voice."

Alex spun around at the sound of Castiel's deep voice. "Oh, thanks," she said quietly, slightly embarrassed that he had heard her.

"Did you write that?" The angel approached.

"No. It's from my universe," Alex quickly explained.

"Mm." Castiel walked up to her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. "I don't like it."

"Why not?" Alex asked, slightly offended. "I do."

"I will _always_ answer you," the angel promised. "You know that."

At those words, all the episodes from the show flooded back to her, and she closed her eyes, remembering how this all ended.

"What's wrong?" Castiel noticed her sadness. "Was it something I said?" He looked down into her face, blue eyes sparkling with concern.

"No, no. It's nothing." Alex pushed it away. "And thank you." She leaned up to press a light kiss on his cheek.

Castiel smiled. "I love you, Alex." He kissed her gently. "One day, we'll have fledglings. More than you can ever count." He saw Alex wince. "What's the matter?" He sat down on the couch.

"It's nothing." Alex shook her head. "Just give me more time."

"Of course." Castiel tipped his head to one side. "We have all the time you'll need." He stared out the window, and Alex sighed.

"I'm sorry." She sat down on the coffee table, putting a hand on his knee. "I know you want . . . fledglings, Cas. And, I, I want fledglings with you, too. Just, I can't. I'm sorry . . ."

She trailed off as Castiel turned back to her. "It's fine. You need me to wait, so I will wait." Then he disappeared.

 

 **O** ne night, as Alex sat up in the bedroom reading, Castiel appeared. Alex looked up, smiling. The smile quickly disappeared. "Cas?" she cried, tossing her book onto the bed. She hurried over to him. Blood trickled down his face, and he unstably knelt down on the floor. Alex knelt beside him. "Cas? Are you okay?" she whispered.

He looked up into her face, his blue eyes wide and full of pain. "No," he whispered back. "I'm sorry."

"Cas, what's wrong?" Alex took his hand, holding it tight. "What happened?"

The angel took a shaky breath. "I talked with Raphael," he growled.

Alex closed her eyes. "Did he do this?" She focused on her grace, trying to push it into Cas, help heal him faster.

"Stop," Castiel told her quietly. "I'll be fine. But I'm worried about you. Raphael has threatened to destroy everyone who is standing with me tomorrow morning. He will kill you. Or worse." He took her head in his hands.

Alex resisted shying away. She looked into his deep blue eyes. "He can't hurt me," she promised.

"You don't know that." Castiel blinked blood out of his eyes. "He's an archangel, Alex. Not even I can stop him." He staggered to his feet, making his way into the bathroom. Alex followed carefully. He walked into the closet, throwing Alex's clothes into her bag.

“Uh . . . what are you doing?" Alex asked quietly.

"Packing your stuff." Castiel approached her.

He grabbed her arm, and then, she was standing outside in the dark. In the rain.

"Cas? What's happening?" She blinked water out of her eyes. Her clothes were already soaked.

"I'm sorry. But heaven is no longer safe," Castiel explained quickly. "You need to stay here. With Dean."

"But--"

"No buts." Castiel's eyes glittered with worry. "I'd explain everything if I had time. Good bye, Alex."

"Good bye?" Alex searched his face desperately. His brown hair was plastered against his head, and water dripped down his face, washing off the drying blood.

"I can't risk coming back. They'd find you." He leaned forward and kissed Alex. She stiffened for only a second before she relaxed. He stepped back. Alex glanced up at him, then suddenly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing his lips down to hers. He kissed her back and wrapped his wings around Alex, shielding them from the rain, and for a few brief seconds, she felt completely safe. He broke away, pressing his forehead against hers. His blue eyes hovered inches away from Alex's. " _I love you._ “ Then he was gone.

"I love you too," Alex whispered. She looked around. She was standing on the sidewalk in front of a well-lit house. She walked forward and rung the doorbell. She heard movement inside the house, and the door opened slightly. A young woman looked out at Alex. "May I help you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Is, um, Dean around?" she asked quietly.

"Dean?" the woman called over her shoulder.

"What?" Alex perked up at the sound of the familiar voice. She tried to look into the house.

"There's someone here to see you." The woman stepped away from the door. Alex watched as Dean stepped up to the door. He stopped dead when he saw Alex.

"Hey, Dean." Alex let out a weak smile.

Dean stared at her. "Uh, Alex. What are you, uh, doing here?" He gave her a pointed look.

"It's a long story." Alex brushed her wet hair out of her face. "Can I come in?"

"Of course, of course." The woman stepped aside, letting Alex in.

"Thank you. It's Lisa, right?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Dean's talked about you," Alex lied quickly. It wasn't a total lie; Dean had mentioned Lisa once or twice, but it wasn't how Alex had known. She looked down to see herself standing in a puddle. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I'll get you a towel." Lisa walked off down the hall.

"What are you doing here?" Dean whispered angrily.

"What do you mean?" Alex pouted slightly. "I thought you'd be glad to see me. Thank you." She gratefully took the towel from Lisa.

"Won't you sit down?" Lisa motioned to the couch.

"Maybe I should put on some dry clothes. I have some." Alex held up the duffle bag. "That is, if you don't mind."

"Yes, yes. The bathroom is right down the hall."

"Thanks again." Alex hurried off down the hall and quickly changed into drier clothes. She returned to the room where Lisa and Dean sat.

"So, Alex, what brings you here?" Dean asked with a forced cheerfulness. "I thought you'd be, you know."

"There's been a few problems up in heaven," Alex began.

"Heaven?" Lisa looked from Alex to Dean.

"It's a figure of speech," Dean quickly explained. "Uh, Lisa, can you excuse us for a minute?"

“Uh, sure. I'll just go check on Ben." Lisa left the room, glancing behind her to watch Dean lean forward.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked again, voice quiet but intent.

"Cas brought me here."

"Why?"

"He said it's not safe in heaven anymore. There's a war, and Raphael has threatened to kill me," Alex whispered. "Cas said I'd be safer here."

"So what? I'm not your babysitter. I have a life."

"I don't need a babysitter, Dean. I can take care of myself."

"Well obviously you can't," Dean shot back angrily. "Or else you wouldn't be here!"

"Is everything okay?" Lisa stuck her head in the room.

"Yeah, peachy." Dean smiled at her. He turned back to Alex.

"Can I get you anything?" Lisa asked.

"No thank you."

"Actually, Alex was just leaving, weren't you?" Dean stood up and forcefully walked Alex to the door.

"Where am I suppose to go, Dean?" Alex snapped.

"Just fly back to heaven.”

"I can't. Lucifer broke my wing, and Cas says he can't fix it." Alex crossed her arms. Worry fluttered in her chest, and she couldn’t understand why Dean was kicking her out.

"What is that suppose to mean?" Lisa asked from beside the stairs.

"It means she's leaving." Dean opened the door and pushed Alex back out into the rain.

"Dean!" Alex yelled. The door was slammed closed. Alex sighed angrily. She sat down on the front step, watching the raindrops bounce off the sidewalk. The lights in the house went out, and Alex sat alone in the dark. She curled her wings around herself, being careful not to re-injure her left one. There she sat for the rest of the night, crying as she thought of what had happened.

 

 **T** he rain had stopped in the early morning, and the sun was caught in the reflection of the morning dew. Alex faintly heard movement inside the house. The door opened, and Lisa stepped out. "You're back early," she commented.

"I never left," Alex admitted. She stood up, her legs cramped from sitting still all night.

"You're serious?" Lisa asked. Alex nodded. "Don't you have anywhere to go?"

Alex shook her head. "That's why I came here."

"Come inside." Lisa ushered the young girl inside. She led her into the kitchen, where Dean and a young boy who Alex assumed was Ben sat.

"What are you doing here?" Dean turned to Lisa. "What is she doing here?"

"Did you know she had nowhere else to go?" Lisa put her hands on her hips.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"Alex -- it is Alex right -- spent the entire night on the front step."

Dean glared at Alex, who shrugged.

"Dean, can I talk to you for a minute?" Lisa's voice was tense.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Dean followed the woman out of the room.

Alex watched them leave, then looked over at Ben. "It's Ben, right?"

"Yeah." The boy didn't look up.

"My name's Alex."

"Yeah, I know."

"Smart-ass," Alex muttered. She sat down at the table across from him, head in her hands.

"What brings you around?" Ben looked up from his breakfast.

Alex thought for a second. "I lost my home," she finally explained. "There were some people after me, but they won't find me here."

"There are people after you?" This caught Ben's attention. "Like police?"

"No, not really. More like," Alex searched for a word, "a gang, maybe."

"Cool." Ben looked interested.

Lisa returned, Dean trailing behind. "Alex?"

Alex stood up. "Sorry. I can leave."

"No. Actually," she looked over at Dean, "we want you to stay here."

Alex looked surprised. "Really?"

"Sure. I've already taken in one misfit." She smiled motherly. "What's another?"

"Thank you." Alex let out a small smile. "I mean it."

"You're welcome." Lisa looked over at Ben. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

Ben slipped out of the room.

"I can take him to school," Dean offered.

"No, it's okay. I was heading that way anyways." Lisa kissed Dean quickly and went upstairs, leaving Dean and Alex alone.

"So I can stay?" Alex asked hopefully.

"Yeah. Didn't you hear Lisa?"

"Well, yeah, but you're the man of the house."

"And she's the boss," Dean grumbled.

Alex laughed. "Well, thank you. I wasn't sure what I was going to do."

"Dean? We're leaving!" Lisa called from the hallway. She went out the door, followed by Ben.

"Okay. See you later." Dean glanced at Alex. “Hang on,” he told her. Then he disappeared upstairs.

Alex heard the sound of a car start and drive away, and she waited patiently in the kitchen for Dean to return.

“Here.” Dean stepped back into the room and tossed her something. Alex caught it to discover that it was her phone. “You left it in the motel back before, you know.”

“Thanks.” Alex glanced at her notifications. _23 missed calls_. She set it on the table. "Why didn't you want me to stay?"

Dean sunk into a chair. "To be honest?" he sighed. "I didn't want anything to do with my old life, now that Sammy's gone. That includes you, and Bobby, and anything to do with monsters and demons."

Alex sighed. "If you really want me to go, I . . . I guess I can go to Bobby's." Her voice dropped. "But I kind of want to get out of hunting too."

Dean nodded. "No, it's okay. I'm fine if you stay. Seriously."

The angel smiled. "Thanks, Dean. This won't be too hard; it's like my old, old life. Before you guys." She smiled. "Trust me, I'm a pro at suburban living."

Dean chuckled. "Then you better give me some pointers." He stabbed at his eggs. "So, uh, you and Cas, eh?"

Alex blushed. "Yeah, I guess so."

Dean smirked. "Told you so."

"Shut up."

"So, have you guys . . ?" Dean waggled his eyebrows.

Alex blushed even more. "No. Nope."

Dean smirked again. "You're such a prude. The both of you."

"The both of you," Alex mimicked annoyedly. "Shut up." She sat in silent for several seconds, batting around the idea of speaking up. "Well, Cas isn't so much of a prude as you think," she finally said quietly. "He's been wanting to. I keep saying no."

Thankfully, Dean didn't make any snarky reply. He just took another bite of eggs. "Why's that?" he asked, chewing loudly.

Alex shrugged. "He . . . I don't know. He wants fledglings already, and I . . . I don't know."

They fell into silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI I didn't come up with that Hey Deliah song cover. I found it on youtube. (Called Hey Castiel, most likely)


	54. Wish I May

**T** he next week went by quickly. Alex settled into the routine easily. Then, one day, Dean and Lisa approached her. "You're going to school."

"What?" Alex exclaimed, sitting up straight.

"You need an education," Lisa insisted. "You start next week."

"There's only a month of school left," Alex pointed out.

"That's too bad. And if you don't pass, you can go to summer school." Dean folded his arms. "And if you don't go to school, you are going to get a job."

Alex glared up at them. "Fine. I'll go to school. _Only_ because I want my summer off."

“Dean had your transcripts sent over last week. You start Monday.”

“Transcripts?” Alex tipped her head, then shut her mouth when Dean shot her a warning glance. "Fine. So I start Monday, then."

"Yes." Lisa picked up her purse. "Come on. We're going shopping."

"Shopping. Why?" Alex groaned.

"You need school supplies." Lisa looked Alex up and down. "And new clothes."

"What's wrong with my old clothes?"

"First off, those are my clothes," Dean put in.

"You never wear them," Alex shot back. She saw Dean and Lisa exchange a glance. “Fine.” Lisa disappeared upstairs, and Alex looked up at Dean. “School? Transcripts?”

Dean stretched out on the couch beside her. “It was purely Lisa’s idea. She still thinks you’re human. And I . . . may or may not have reused some of Sam’s.”

Alex huffed.

 

 **A** lex and Lisa got back from shopping late that afternoon. Alex jumped out of the car and walked into the house to see Dean sitting on the couch, watching tv. "What are you watching?" she asked.

"Baseball." Dean shrugged. "I guess that's what normal people do."

Alex laughed. "Dean, you are anything but normal. I never liked baseball."

Dean grunted. "How was your shopping trip with Lisa?"

"Good, I suppose. I got a backpack. Haven't had one of those in several years." Alex sat down on the couch next to Dean. Lisa walked in through the front door.

"Hey, honey. We're home." Lisa was carrying several bags.

Alex winced. "Sorry. Let me help you with that." She took the bags from Lisa.

"Thank you." Lisa took her spot next to Dean. Alex carried the bags up the stairs and into her bedroom. It had originally been Lisa's office, but Dean and Lisa had agreed to switch it out with the guest bedroom to create a nice room for Alex. She dropped the bags on the bed.

"Alex?" She heard Lisa call her name.

"Coming." Alex hurried down the stairs. She was trying very hard to stay on Lisa's good side; it was always a possibility in Alex's mind that she might be asked to leave. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. Dean and I were going to go out for dinner tonight. Can you watch Ben?"

"Sure. No problem." Alex nodded.

"You'll need to make dinner for both of you."

"Uh, okay. I'll see what I can do."

“And no computer until you clean the house.”

Alex’s eyes widened in disbelief, but she nodded meekly. “Yes ma’am.”

Lisa exchanged a look with Dean. “Alex,” she said slowly, “you do know it's okay to say 'no', right?"

"What do you mean?" Alex looked from Dean to Lisa, throughly confused.

"Sit down." Alex obliged. "Alex, you don't need to do everything I say. It's okay to roll your eyes, ignore me, typical teenager stuff."

"Uh, okay, if that's what you want."

Lisa sighed. "Alex, that's not the point."

"Sorry." Alex looked down at her hands.

"Why don't you do this? You're a teenager. And Dean's told me that you _always_ argue. So why aren't you?"

Alex shrugged. "Because I want to stay," she mumbled. Even though she didn't see it, she knew Dean and Lisa exchanged another look.

"We're not going to throw you out." Lisa let out a quiet laugh. "We would never do that to you."

Alex looked up at her. "I hope not." The room was silent. "Can I go?" Alex asked.

"Yes."

Alex stood up and quietly left the room. She went upstairs and looked into Ben's room. "Yo, Ben. How's it going?" She stepped inside.

"It's going good." Ben looked up from his computer. Alex sat down on the bed. "How was shopping with mom?"

Alex made a face. "I hate shopping. It's official."

Ben laughed. "Dean said the same."

"Good for him." Alex watched Ben play his video game. "Dean and Lisa are going out for dinner. So it's you and me, kiddo."

"Kay. What's for dinner?"

"Dunno." Alex grinned. "You want to order a pizza or something?"

"Awesome," Ben grinned as well.

"Okay. It's a deal." Alex stood back up. "Pepperoni and sausage?"

"Like always." Ben turned back to his game.

Alex smiled and left his room, closing the door behind her. She went back downstairs. "You two still going out?" she asked, seeing Dean and Lisa still sitting on the couch.

"Yeah." Dean sighed and got up. "What are you doing for dinner?"

Alex shrugged. "Probably order a pizza."

Lisa sighed. Dean laughed. "You did ask her to rebel, Lis," he reminded her.

 

 **A** lex and Ben did end up ordering that pizza. They ate it on the couch, watching some action movie Ben insisted was good. Around ten, Alex sent him to bed. He protested, but she firmly reminded him that it was a school night. Then she remembered that is was a school night for her too. Alex sighed, and cleaned up the pizza box and pop cans that remained sitting on the coffee table. Then, after making sure the door was locked and only the living room lights were on, she retired to bed.

 

 **A** lex was back in her nightmare. Lucifer was sitting on the table, watching Alex intently. "I haven't seen you in a while." He frowned. "Not sleeping well?"

Alex hissed. She was sitting back in the chair; however, this time she was not bound. She looked for the door.

"Thinking of leaving?" Lucifer guessed. His eyes flickered to the door, and it vanished.

Alex stood up. "Leave me alone." she hissed, and flared her wings. Pain shot up her left wing, and she fell to the ground.

Lucifer walked over to her and helped her up, his face concerned. He ran his fingers over her broken wing. Alex flinched, expecting pain, but there was none. Her confusion must have shown, because Lucifer spoke. "There. It will still be broken in the real world, but you will feel no pain here." He stretched out his wings, and Alex took a second to study them. They were regal and full; the crimson primary feathers faded to black at the tips, and they seemed to reflect the light so they looked like they glowed.

Alex stretched out her own wing. It moved flawlessly. "Thanks, I guess," she muttered. "But it's still your fault."

"I am sorry. But you needed to learn to obey me without question." Lucifer loosely wrapped his arms around Alex's waist. She tensed, but remained still. "Good," he mumbled.

Alex growled softly. Lucifer retaliated by pulling her tightly against him. Alex struggled out of his grasp.

"You can't run from me, Alex." Lucifer let her go. "You see this?" He motioned to the room. "Your mind?" He smirked. "It's _mine_.”

 

 **"N** o!" Alex sat up in bed, drenched in sweat. She looked at the clock. 5:47. Alex fell back in bed, shivering in fear. She lay there for several minutes, unable to fall back to sleep. She replayed her dream in her head over and over. Finally she got up and quietly made her way downstairs, careful not to wake the others. She sat down at the kitchen table in the dark. After a minute or two she heard the stairs creak, and the kitchen lights flickered on. Alex jumped up and spun around, fists balled. She relaxed as she recognized Dean.

The hunter stared at her for several seconds. ”Can’t sleep?" he guessed. "Bad dream?"

Alex nodded and sunk back down into the chair.

"You want to talk about it?" Dean sat down across from her.

"Not really," Alex mumbled. She studied her hands.

"It the same one?" Dean asked, referring to one of Alex's common nightmares.

Alex shook her head.

"Well, okay," Dean sighed. He stood up. "You hungry?"

"No." Alex stretched out her wing. There was still biting pain. She groaned.

"You ready for your first day at school?" Dean tried to strike up a conversation.

"No. I'm not really good with people."

Dean laughed gently. "You'll do just fine." He pulled two beers out of the fridge. "Bottom's up." He tossed one to Alex, and opened the second one for himself.

Alex rolled her eyes. "No better way to start off the day." She opened hers and took a sip. She still didn't like the taste, but it helped calm her down. She quickly drank half before Dean took it away from her.

"Don't want you to be buzzed for your first day." He winked and finished it off.

Alex narrowed her eyes jokingly. "Fine. Be like that." She looked at the clock. "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep," Dean shrugged. Alex nodded understandingly. "You want to watch some infomercials?" Dean grinned. Alex raised an eyebrow. "It's the only good thing on at this time," he quickly explained. He led Alex over to the couch and flicked on the tv. He sat down next to Alex. He put his arm around her comfortingly, and Alex put her head on his shoulder. "So is Cas okay?" he asked worriedly.

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. He said he couldn't risk seeing me because the others would find me."

"So that's it? No more you and Cas?"

"I don't know. Heaven’s in total chaos. Hopefully everything works out, but . . ." Alex trailed off, biting her lip.

Dean rubbed her shoulder, lost in his own thoughts. "And how about you? Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You went missing for a week. No one knew what happened. All we found was a dead demon, his eyes burned out."

"That was me."

"Me and Sammy had to keep driving, but Cas stayed behind, looking for you. He was worried sick." Dean let out a breath. "He blamed himself."

"It wasn't his fault. I was jumped by three demons. They shot me with tranquilizers. I manage to kill one, then I passed out." Alex swallowed. "I woke up I-don't-know-where. Crowley was there."

Dean tensed. "Son of a bitch. I will freaking murder him," he swore. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." Alex closed her eyes. "He didn't. He, he said he didn't want to damage the merchandise."

She felt Dean tense again. "He was going to sell you?" Dean hissed. "Son of a bitch." He paused. "But how did you end up at the cemetery? With Lucifer?" Alex didn't respond. "He didn't." Dean swore. "I will rip his lungs out. I will murder him." His eyes glittered with anger.

"Murder who?" Ben spoke up. Both Dean and Alex jumped.

"No one," Dean sighed. "Go back to bed."

Ben looked at the two of them. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Just having a heart-to-heart."

"Uh, okay. I'll just go back to bed then." Alex listened to Ben retreat up the stairs.

Dean turned back to Alex. ”Now I wish I had killed those sons of bitches when I had the chance."

"It's fine. I'm okay now."

"Did he hurt you?"

"He broke my nose. And my wing. And he bruised a couple of my ribs. Cas was able to fix everything but the wing."

Dean sighed and pulled Alex tighter. "I'm sorry, girl."

Alex let out a silent breath. They sat in silence.

 

 **T** he sun rose. Alex blinked open her eyes. She had fallen into a dreamless sleep, her head resting on Dean's shoulder. Dean shifted, and Alex sat up.

"Dean?" Lisa walked into the room. She paused when she saw the both of them. "Alex, Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

Alex sighed. Dean nudged her to her feet. "I'll take them today," Dean promised. He stood up and hugged Lisa. She kissed him quickly. Alex averted her eyes.

"I'll go get ready." She ran up the stairs and threw open her closet. She quickly put on her new pair of jeans and a clean black shirt. On a second thought, she pulled out Dean's old green jacket. She grabbed her backpack which was filled with her school stuff, and went back downstairs. Dean glanced at her.

Lisa laughed. "A chip off the old block, huh?" She patted Dean on his back. He had gotten dressed as well, and also wearing jeans, a black shirt, and a jacket. He frowned.

"Well, at least one of us looks good," Alex joked.

Lisa smiled and walked over to the kitchen. She noticed the two beer bottles sitting on the table and frowned. "Dean?" She called. "Would you like to explain this?"

Dean shrugged his broad shoulders. "What can I say?"

"But two?"

"One and a half," Dean corrected before he caught himself.

Lisa looked over at Alex. She put her hands on her hips.

Alex shrugged innocently. "Sorry. Old habits die hard, I suppose."

"But I only let her have half," Dean added.

Lisa sighed. "Honestly? New rule. No drinking for you. And no drinking in the morning for you." She pointed at Dean.

"But at night, right?" he frowned.

"We'll see."

Ben ran down the stairs. "You ready to go?" Dean asked him. When he nodded, he motioned for Alex to put on her shoes. She did so; she slipped on one maroon and one grey converse. Sure they didn't match, but Alex had gotten them cheap. And they were unique.

"Hurry up." Dean's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She jumped up, grabbed her backpack, and rushed out the front door. Dean was getting behind the wheel of a tan Ford truck. Alex ran up to the passenger door and sat down, leaving Ben to take the backseat.

"Dude," Alex frowned. "Where's the Impala?"

"Retired." Dean backed the truck out of the driveway. Alex frowned again. They dropped Ben off at his school before Dean took Alex to the high school. He parked the truck and walked her in.

"Uh, yeah, hi." He smiled at the woman in the office. "This is Alex. She's new. I don't suppose you can show us around?"

The woman blushed. "Sure, Mr . . ."

"Winchester. Dean Winchester."

"Sure, Mr. Winchester." The woman stood up and walked off with Dean, leaving Alex to trail behind. "Here are the lockers. This is yours." She showed Alex how to open it. "And here is your schedule." She handed Alex a sheet of paper. "The room numbers are right there. You should be able to find your way around. If not, just ask." She then led Alex and Dean down the hall to one of the rooms. "This is your first class." She opened the door. Many pairs of eyes turned to stare at them. Alex stepped in, and Dean stood behind her. "Mr. Neilson?"

A large man turned at his name. "Yes?"

"This is Alex. She's new and is joining this class."

"Alex, eh?" The man studied her. Alex met his gaze confidently. "And who's this?"

"Dean. Her guardian." Dean put his hands on her shoulders. "Don't cause any trouble," he said. "I'll see you after school." He smiled rakishly, and Alex heard several people catch their breath.

"Yeah, see you." She smiled back and watched them leave. The door closed, leaving Alex alone with the strange people.

"Well, Alex, find a seat." The teacher turned his back to her and continued with the class.

Alex slid into one of the back tables and put her backpack on the floor.

"That guy was cute," one of the girls next to her whispered. "I bet he's wonderful."

Alex raised an eyebrow, confused. "What?"

The girl batted her eyelashes. "I said he was cute."

"Yeah, I caught that part." Alex leaned back in her chair.

"Is he your dad?" the girl persisted. Alex shook her head. "Friend?" Alex shrugged. "Boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?" Alex snorted. "Dude, he's like thirty." _Then again_ , she thought, _Cas looks to be around thirty to forty. And he's my boyfriend. Well, mate._ Alex winced at the thought.

"Alex."

Alex looked up at the teacher. "Can I help you?" she asked innocently. A few students laughed.

"Explain the atomic theory."

"How the hell should I know?" Alex shrugged. "I'm not a regular around here." A few more students laughed.

The teacher frowned. "Then I suggest you pay attention." He handed her a textbook and turned back to the board. Alex paid little attention to the class. She flipped through the book. It was filled with useless facts. _I'm an angel,_ she reasoned. _When am I ever going to need to know about the electromagnetic theory?_

 

 **H** alf an hour later, the bell rang. All of the students stood up and filed out of the room. Alex picked up her backpack and followed. She pulled the schedule out of her pocket and looked at it. _Spanish. Room 218. Where the hell is that?_ Alex looked up. She picked a hallway, and went that way. Thankfully, it appeared to be right, and she entered the room with only seconds to spare. She sat down at the back table.

"Hey." Alex looked up. "That's my spot." A tall boy looked down at her.

"Really?" Alex shrugged. "Sorry." She looked around him towards the front of the class.

"You gonna move?" The boy crossed his arms.

"Does it look like it?" Alex didn't bother looking at him. She heard a couple in the class gasp in shock.

The boy leaned over and put his hands on the table. "You know who I am, right?"

"Haven't the slightest." Alex noticed everyone was watching them, eyes wide.

"The name's Calvin. And this is my seat."

"Listen, Calvin, right?" Alex met his gaze. "I don't want to cause any trouble. But this isn't your seat. 'Cause I'm sitting here." She put her feet up onto the desk. "And I'm not afraid of you."

"We'll fix that." Calvin cast a quick glance at the teacher. "I'll find you. After school. Out front. You hear?" He walked away before Alex could respond.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. One of the girls next to her leaned over. "You better run," she warned. "He's going to kill you." Her large blue eyes were filled with concern.

Alex laughed. "Trust me. You've have no idea what I've had to face. He's nothing."

"But he's one of the toughest guys in school," the girl persisted.

"Listen. I've seen tougher. I've fought tougher." Alex resisted adding the fact that she'd killed tougher as well.

"You're Alex, right?" The guy in front of her turned around.

"Uh, yeah."

"Didn't you promise that guy you'd stay out of trouble?" he inquired.

Alex sighed. "Yeah. I got to lay low. Stay unnoticed. Don't want to be found again." She muttered that last part under her breath. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice.

 

 **T** he end of the day came quickly. Alex slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed out to the parking lot, looking for Dean's truck.

"Hey, girl." Alex rolled her eyes and turned around to see Calvin.

"What do you want?" She scanned for the truck.

"I don't like smart asses." Calvin spun her around. Alex could see a large crowd had gathered.

"Shove off." Alex watched Calvin ball his fists. "I don't want to fight."

"I'm going to enjoy beating you to a pulp." Calvin swung a fist at her. Quick as lightning, Alex dodged the punch. Calvin swung again. Alex dodged him once more. She glanced behind her to see the brown pickup truck pull into the lot.

"That's my ride." Alex started to walk away. She heard heavy footsteps and felt a large weight land in the middle of her back. It shoved Alex to the ground. She ducked her head and rolled with her shoulder, landing back on her feet. She turned around to see Calvin standing there.

"Too scared to fight?" he teased.

"I don't hit little girls," Alex shot back. In her peripheral vision, she saw Dean get out of the truck and lean against it casually, his eyes trained on her. She looked over at him, and he nodded.

Alex sighed, and dropped her backpack. Calvin came at her again, winding up for a punch. He threw it at her face; Alex caught his fist and twisted it. Calvin winced in pain before wrenching it away. His face was twisted in rage. This time he tried a right hook. Alex recoiled, barely avoiding the fist. She punched him in the face, and he staggered backwards. She heard the crowd gasped. Calvin straightened up, his face twisted in anger. He charged at her. Alex balled her fists and adjusted her stance. Calvin threw several punches. Alex blocked them effectively. She had always been fast and strong; being an angel only heightened those strengths.

One of Calvin's fists connected with her jaw, and Alex was knocked backwards. She stumbled, but remained upright. She tasted the iron tang of blood, and spat out a mouthful. Calvin approached. He swung at her. Alex deflected the blow and punched him in the stomach as hard as she could. He flew backwards into the crowd. Alex wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Calvin stumbled back to his feet and glared at her. Alex confidently met his gaze. Even though she knew he couldn't see them, she flared her wings. Well, wing. Calvin sneered, but stalked off. Alex picked up her backpack and walked over to Dean, ignoring the whispers of the crowd. "What are you looking at?" she asked crossly.

"Nice moves." Dean uncrossed his arms and got into the driver's seat.

Alex saw Ben staring at her, his eyes wide. She acknowledged him with a nod.

Alex got into the car and put her backpack between her feet. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"For what?" Dean backed the car out of the school lot and took off down the road. He glanced over at her.

"For fighting." Alex didn't meet his gaze.

"Uh-huh." Dean adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. "Who started it?"

"He did." Alex put her forehead against the window. "I tried to walk away."

"I don't blame you. Sometimes, you need to defend yourself." Dean laughed. "At least you can fight. I don't think he'll be giving you much trouble anymore."

Alex smiled, warmed by Dean's laughter. "Let's hope not."

 

 **T** hey drove home in silence. As soon as Dean pulled the truck into the garage, Ben jumped out. Alex followed sullenly. She found Lisa in the kitchen. "Hey, guys how was school today?"

"Good." Ben dropped his backpack on the couch.

"And how about you Alex? Anything exciting happen on your first day?"

"No," Alex muttered. She heard Dean enter the house.

"Alex got into a fight!" Ben exclaimed. "It was so cool!"

"What?" Lisa turned around. "Is that true?" she asked.

Alex nodded reluctantly.

"Alex." Lisa looked disappointed. "Wait." She turned to Ben. "You saw this fight?" When Ben nodded, she sighed. "Dean."

"What?" Dean stepped behind Alex.

"You didn't stop her?"

"Alex is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. That boy needed to learn a lesson."

"But letting her fight? And on her first day?" Lisa looked angry and disappointed.

"I didn't start it," Alex mumbled.

"Well this type of behavior better not continue, young ma’am." Lisa put her hands on her hips. She sighed again. "Go upstairs."

Alex obeyed.

 

 **T** he next several days passed without event. Alex fell into routine at school, though most people tended to avoid her. They cast her weird looks when they thought she wasn't watching. The nightmares continued as well. Because she was an angel, she was able to remain awake for several days on end, but when she did finally sleep, she was haunted by Lucifer. Finally, Friday was over and the weekend had just begun. Dean and Lisa took Alex and Ben out for dinner, and afterwards they went bowling. They got home late and went straight to bed. "At least tomorrow you get to sleep in," Dean had reminded them cheerfully.

Alex smiled and collapsed into bed. She hadn't slept since Sunday, and every fiber in her body was screaming for rest. It wasn't long before she was asleep.

 

 **"A** re you avoiding me?" Alex opened her eyes to see Lucifer standing in front of her. "It's been five days," Lucifer whined. "Don't you like being here?"

Alex snorted and walked to the other side of the room. Lucifer followed. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Alex tensed, remembering how Castiel would do the same. She tried to ignore him and walk away. Lucifer didn't let her. "Come on, Alex. Talk to me."

"Ugh." Alex wrenched herself out of his grasp. "Why do I keep dreaming about this? Why can't I have normal dreams?" She sat down on the bed.

"You think I'm just in your head?" Lucifer sat down next to her. "Alex, you're not crazy. I'm real."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," she told him.

He smirked. "Right now, in the cage, I can see you. Whenever you fall asleep, I'm pulled to you." He wrapped his arm around Alex's waist. Her muscles tensed. "And I'm still powerful. I control everything here. Even you." He whispered the last sentence.

"No." Alex stood up. "You're lying."

"I'm not." Lucifer stretched out on the bed.

"Yes, you are," she insisted.

Lucifer shook his head. "Come here." He patted the mattress next to him. Alex ignored him. "Alex. If you don't obey me, I'll have to do something I don't want to," he warned. "The pain might not follow you into the waking world, but the memories will. Now _come here._ “

Alex squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. Then she turned and regretfully walked over to the bed. She sat down on the other side.

"Lay down," he ordered. Alex obeyed slowly. She stretched her legs out and warily rested her head on the pillow. She wanted nothing more than to wake up. They lay in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Alex closed her eyes, trying to ignore him. It had been several weeks since she had last been around an angel, and she felt her willpower and self-restraint failing. She hated it. She hated feeling her body react to his slightest touch. And she hated that fact that she knew that there was nothing she could do to stop it. Except being near her mate.

She took a breath and tasted Lucifer's scent. She clamped her mouth shut and turned on her side to face away from him. Lucifer placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back down onto her back. She suppressed a shiver at his touch. He seemed to notice, because he reached down and linked his fingers through hers. He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it gently.

Alex could feel her mind start to shut down, and she desperately fought it. Lucifer rolled onto his side so he was facing Alex. He flared his right wing so it hovered several feet over Alex's head. The bare light filtered through the crimson feathers, making them glow. Alex let out a breath of amazement at the sight. The angel smirked. He leaned in and kissed her softly. Alex tensed immediately. She fought for control over her body, which was trying to betray her. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. She gasped in shock as she felt Lucifer roll over onto her. He pinned her under him, keeping her in place. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead into hers. "No," Alex gasped. "This is _wrong._ “

"But it feels so _right_ ,” Lucifer grinned and crushed his lips against hers. Alex felt her last bit of self-control desert her. She kissed him back. Lucifer ran his fingers through the underside of her wings, grinning to himself when he felt Alex shiver. Alex kissed him feverishly, and he responded by grinding his hips into hers. He bit her bottom lip at the same time, and Alex gasped. He took that opportunity to force his tongue into her mouth. Alex stiffened slightly at the intrusion, but fingers in her wings soon had her completely relaxed. She reached up and ran her hands through his short hair, pulling his head closer. Lucifer tolerated it for a while, but soon untangled her fingers from his hair and gently, yet forcefully, pushed her arms above her head. Alex was in no position to resist, and allowed him to reposition her limbs. He ran his hands up her side and slid them under her shoulders, gently lifting her up into him. He ran his forked tongue along the inside of her mouth. Alex moaned quietly.

Suddenly, he rolled off of Alex. She opened her eyes and lay there, confused. He grinned. "Sweet 'normal' dreams." He whispered, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. Then he was gone.

 

 **A** lex woke when she heard the sound of footsteps outside her door. Sunlight was flooding the room. She rolled over and looked at the clock. 9:56. Alex yawned. She narrowed her eyes quizzically as she remembered her dream. She wasn't angry; which was weird because she knew she should feel angry. But she didn't. She ran through the dream in her head again and blushed. Alex shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It could have been a lot worse. _You wanted it to be a lot worse._ A little voice in her head told her. Alex jumped out of bed, embarrassed for thinking about it. She ran down the hall and stairs and into the kitchen. "Hey." Dean acknowledged her.

"Hey."

"It's about time you got up." Dean looked up from the table.

"Sorry."

Dean smiled understandingly. "I get it. First good night of sleep in a long time, huh?"

"Yeah." Alex went with that. "Exactly." She grabbed a bowl and sat down at the table. She poured milk and cereal into the bowl and picked up the spoon. "Where's Lisa?"

"She took Ben to the grocery store." Dean stood up and cleared his dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

"Awesome. More food," Alex mumbled around a mouthful of cereal.

 

 **T** he weekend passed way too quickly, and once again it was Sunday night. Alex found herself wanting to dream again, which slightly disturbed her. She crawled into bed and closed her eyes. She hadn't slept at all last night so she would be able to sleep well tonight. She had been right, and sleep came easy.

 

 **S** he found herself back in heaven, back in the bedroom of her house in heaven. Confused, she looked around. Alex blushed as she realized she was also slightly disappointed. "Alex?"

Alex turned at the sound of Castiel's voice. All thoughts of Lucifer vanished from her mind at the sight of her angel. "Cas?" she breathed. Castiel stared at her for a second, then rushed forward and pulled Alex into a tight hug. "I missed you, Cas," Alex whispered into his chest.

"I missed you too." Castiel buried his face into her hair. Alex reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand. She pulled his lips down to hers and kissed him deeply. He returned the kiss. Alex ran her fingers through his dark brown hair, melting into him. Suddenly, she felt something strange. Castiel felt different. She opened her eyes to see Lucifer kissing her, not Cas. She shoved him away. Lucifer pouted. "What?" he asked.

Alex narrowed her eyes accusingly, but said nothing.

"You have to admit that was pretty good." Lucifer's appearance shifted into Castiel. "I had you convinced," he said in the angel's voice. He shifted back. "Look." He motioned to the room. "I even changed the location." He smiled. "I got it from your memories. I told you I control everything in here."

Alex huffed angrily and stomped over to the bay window. She sat down on the the seat with her back against the wall and her legs pulled up to her chest. Lucifer sat down next to her.

"Come on, Alex. Don't pretend like you can't hear me." He put a large hand on her knee. Alex crossed her arms. "I'm sorry." He actually sounded regretful, and Alex shot him a glance. He smiled when he met Alex's gaze. "But I'm surprised you are still choosing him over me," he pouted. "And after all we've been through."

Alex let out a low growl.

Lucifer kept talking. "I see you still need more convincing." At those words, Alex felt her stomach twist. She curled her toes and fingers, and returned to gazing out the window. She tried to ignore Lucifer next to her. He laughed quietly. "What do you think?"

Alex swallowed nervously. She tried to focus her thoughts on Castiel. She admitted to herself that she had wanted to dream, but now that she was angry at Lucifer again, she wanted nothing to do with him.

Lucifer seemed to pick up at that. He leaned in close to her. Alex turned her head to look away. Lucifer reached up and took her head in his hands. He stubbornly turned her head so Alex was facing him. He leaned in slowly and softly kissed her. Alex closed her eyes. He drew back slightly. "Do you still like that angel better then me?" he whispered, his lips barely brushing Alex's as he spoke. He felt Alex shiver, and he smiled. Alex didn't respond, but, as Lucifer reminded himself, at least she didn't protest. He felt Alex try to stretch her face closer to him, but he held her head still, keeping his lips close enough that they were barely brushing hers, but far enough away to drive Alex insane. After several seconds she stopped struggling and went limp, her eyes still closed. Lucifer grinned to himself. _It was so much fun breaking a female angel._

Alex waited patiently. She could feel his breath on her lips. She knew she was doing what Lucifer wanted, but at the moment she didn't care; he was the only angel she had been around in weeks, and the effect was starting to show.

Lucifer removed one hand from her head and put it on her knee. He felt Alex try and moved her head, and he let out a quiet growl. Alex stopped moving. Lucifer gently pushed her knee down. Alex obeyed, lowering her knees from her chest. He slid his hand up to her thigh, his lips still hovering next to hers. Alex squirmed in frustration, her wings twitching. Lucifer stretched out his wings and brushed his primary feathers across the inside of her wings. Alex let out a labored breath. Lucifer leaned back, watching Alex recover.

She opened her eyes slowly. Anger and confusion flashed through her eyes. She abruptly stood up and walked over to the bed and sat down. Part of her was still angry, but another part was secretly hoping he would join her. After a few seconds, she glanced over at him to see him still perched on the bay window, watching her. She held his gaze for a moment. He didn't move; he just sat there, eyes trained on her. She turned back to face the wall. After a moment she felt the other side of the bed dip. Alex didn't turn around, but she felt goosebumps run up her arms. She could feel Lucifer kneel behind her; he ran his hands from her shoulders down to her wrists. He must have taken off his jacket because Alex could feel the bare skin of his arms. She let out a shaky breath. Lucifer brushed light kisses along her neck.

Alex lost it. She spun around and crushed her lips against his, taking Lucifer by surprise. She pushed him down onto his back and followed him down, never breaking the kiss. Lucifer lay beneath her, shocked, but soon got over it and began kissing her back. Being much stronger than Alex, he was able to overpower her. He rolled them over, claiming the dominant spot on top. He slipped his forked tongue into Alex's mouth. She moaned, and Lucifer responded by grinding his hips into her. He flared his large wings in a display of dominance, and Alex reacted by flattening her wings against the sheets. She reached up and ran her fingers through his feathers. Lucifer arched his back and let out a soft hiss. He curled the tips of his wings towards her. Alex traced his wings down to his back. She ran her hands down his sides to his hips, then back up to his shoulders. She tugged at the collar of his shirt, indicating she wanted it off.

Lucifer laughed. "You, girl, are too impatient." He drew his head away from her.

Alex let out a growl.

"I bet you were never this way around Castiel." He scented the air. "And you're not in heat." He grinned coyly. "It must be me," he chuckled. "However, I will not take you that far unless you say it's okay. I am an angel after all." He dipped his head, hovering over her lips. "I need your consent to be inside you." Then he rolled off of her. Alex growled softly. He retaliated by almost shoving her off the bed. "No growling."

Alex reluctantly pulled herself into a sitting position. As she sat, the fog in her mind cleared, leaving her slightly embarrassed at what had almost happened. She leaned back against the headboard, crossing both her arms and legs. Lucifer shifted into a comfortable position. Alex stared past him angrily.

"Are you ignoring me again?" Lucifer sighed dramatically. "I mean, honestly. Either you won't acknowledge I exist, or you're all over me."

Alex huffed.

"It's like the two most extremes," he continued. "Let's try a little moderation, eh?"

"Fine." Alex turned her eyes to look at him. "What do you want?"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "What do _I_ want?" he asked playfully, propping himself up on an elbow. "You sure you want to go down that road?"

Alex bit back a sharp retort. "What are you doing here?" she rephrased.

"Talking to you."

Alex closed her eyes for a brief second. "Why are you here?" she rephrased the question yet again.

"Why?" Lucifer's brow furrowed in confusion. He finally spoke. "I'm not choosing to come into your dreams, Alex. I'm being _pulled_. I mean, it's nice to get out of the cage for a while. I get bored with only Sammy around. But it's not me doing this." He leaned forward. "It's you. You're letting me into your head."

"Am not," Alex retorted after a second's thought. "I don't want you here, Luci."

"Don't call me Luci," Lucifer warned menacingly.

"Why not?" Alex challenged. "It's kinda cute."

"Cute?" Lucifer spat. He sat up angrily, then paused. "Well, Alex, I must say I'm flattered," he said sweetly. "No one's ever called me cute before."

Mad that he wasn't offended, Alex wrinkled her nose. "There's a good reason for that."

"If you don't want me here, just say so." Lucifer looked thoroughly offended.

"I don't want you here," Alex said firmly.

Lucifer frowned, and, as Alex watched, his form shimmered and disappeared.

"Good riddance," she mumbled. She stood up and walked over to the bedroom door. She reached for the doorknob.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." Alex stopped cold when she heard a voice whisper in her ear. Anger washed over her, and she threw her elbow back into his stomach. It did nothing, but made Alex feel slightly better. "Ow," Lucifer complained. He roughly shoved her face-first into the door. Alex tensed. "I thought we had gotten over you hurting me," he whispered in her ear. He ran his hand over the spot on her left wing where he had broken it weeks before. "You don't want me to get angry, now do you?"

Alex let out a faint hiss before forcing her muscles to relax. Lucifer sensed it and loosened his grip on her.

"Good," he murmured, and stepped back. Alex pushed down a tidal wave of fury. Lucifer seemed to pick up on it, because he ran his hand down Alex's wing to her shoulder. "You're not thinking about being mean to me, are you?" he murmured.

Alex responded by wrenching her wing out of his grasp. She threw open the door and stomped out into the hallway.

"Alex."

Alex heard Castiel's deep, authoritative, voice. She resisted turning at the sound of her mate's voice. "Shut up," she snarled.

"Alex, it's me."

She let out a shaky breath. She felt hands on her shoulder, and they turned her around. Alex refused to meet his eye.

"Alex, look at me." Castiel cupped her chin in one hand, raising her face towards his.

"I said shut up!" Alex lashed out, punching him in the face.

"Ow!" Castiel's appearance shimmered and was immediately replaced by Lucifer's. "That wasn't very nice."

Alex hissed something incomprehensible. She spun around and ran down the stairs.

"You know, I get the feeling there's a few bumps in our relationship." Lucifer followed close behind. "I've found that talking about our feelings often helps."

"Shut up!" Alex yelled over her shoulder.

"Fine. I'll go first then." He sat down on the couch.

Alex stalked off into the kitchen.

"You're suppose to be listening to me!" Lucifer complained from the other room.

"No thank you," Alex called back.

"I'm getting tired of your attitude." Lucifer walked over to the kitchen and leaned against the wall.

"Likewise," Alex said through clenched teeth. She tried to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm.

"I'm serious, Alex." He put on his very rarely seen 'serious' face. "I've got to deal with Sammy's attitude all day, and I don't want to come home every night to deal with this."

"Then why don't you bother not coming here at all," Alex spat. She tried to wrench her arm from his hand.

"Don't," Lucifer growled. Alex instinctively froze. "Both you and I know that's not the answer."

Alex glared up at him, but said nothing. Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back.

"Good." Lucifer pulled her into a hug. "I knew there's a reason I loved you." At those words, Alex tensed. Lucifer just laughed.

 

 **"A** lex?" Gentle shaking pulled Alex out of her dream. She cracked open her eyes to see Dean standing over her, concern spread across his face. "You okay?" He sat down on the side of the bed. Alex scooted over a bit to make room.

"Yeah, yeah." Alex yawned. "I'm fine. Why?"

"You were tossing and turning, and muttering in your sleep." Dean placed a comforting hand on her leg. "Bad dream again?"

Alex's dream came rushing back. She sat up in bed and wrapped her arms around Dean's neck. Before she knew it, she was crying. Dean hugged her back, rubbing circles along her spine. They sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

The lights flickered on. "Dean?" Alex looked up to see Lisa in the doorway, wearing a nightgown.

Dean pulled away from Alex. "Hey, Lis."

"What's going on?" Lisa asked tiredly.

"Nightmare," Dean responded.

Lisa looked from Dean, to Alex, then back to Dean. "Why don't you come back to bed?" she suggested.

Dean glanced at Alex's tear streaked face. "In a minute," he promised. Lisa sighed, turned off the light, and left, leaving Dean and Alex alone.

"You okay?" Dean asked again.

Alex sniffled. "Yeah, I am now."

"You want to talk about it? It might help."

"Since when do we talk about our problems?" Alex pointed out quietly. She meant it as a joke, but it rang true in Dean's ears.

"Since we became normal," Dean grunted in response.

Alex laughed wetly. "You don't want to hear about it anyways."

"Try me." Alex looked into Dean's serious face. "Alex, what are you dreaming about?"

Alex was silent for a few seconds. Another tear slipped down her face. "Lucifer," she whispered. Beside her, Dean tensed.

"Son of a bitch," he whispered. He pulled Alex close to him.

"It's fine, Dean. He can't hurt me," she whispered back.

"It's not fine," Dean insisted. "Do you know he can't hurt you because it's just a dream, or because he's tried?"

"He hasn't hurt me," Alex promised. "He says he doesn't want to."

"He hasn't . . ?" Dean trailed off.

"No." Alex knew where he was going. "Not yet, but . . . Dean, I'm scared. He says he's real. That he's being pulled from the cage into my dreams. But he can't, right? That's impossible." Alex let out a nervous laugh. "Maybe it's just PTSD, right?" She involuntarily let out a small whimper.

Dean wrapped his arms around her. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered into her neck.

Alex started crying again, feeling comforted by Dean's presence.

"I got you." Dean pressed a kiss into her forehead. "I got you, baby." He let out a sigh. "I'm so sorry." He gently rocked her back and forth in his arms. "I'm so, so sorry."


	55. Breakdown

**A** lex woke up to the sun streaming in through her windows. Dean was gone. Alex looked over at the clock, and jumped out of bed. It was almost 9:00. On a school day. She quickly got dressed, throwing on a pair of jeans and what appeared to be a clean shirt, and ran down the stairs. She ended up in the kitchen to see Lisa sitting at the kitchen table. "Why didn't you wake me?" she asked. 

Lisa smiled. "Good morning to you too. Dean thought it would be a good idea to let you sleep in after last night." 

"Well, I'll thank him later," Alex grumbled. "Where is he?" 

"He took Ben to school and then headed off to work." Lisa responded. "Why don't you get ready, then I can ask Mrs. Benson to drive you to school." 

Alex nodded and quickly wolfed down a breakfast and grabbed her backpack. She saw Lisa reach for the telephone. "Actually," she cut in, "I think I'll walk to school. It isn't that far, and I could do with the exercise." Lisa nodded, and Alex smiled before running back upstairs and into Dean and Lisa's bedroom. She dug around in their drawers before letting out a large grin. She pulled out a familiar set of keys. 

Alex ran back downstairs. "I'm off." She called, grabbing a jacket off the couch. It was either Dean's or her's; it didn't matter. Lisa waved her off, and Alex headed around back to the garage. She pulled the cover off of the Impala, beaming. She popped open the trunk and quickly filled it with blankets and a spare tire to cover the false bottom containing the weapons. Then she gently closed it and got into the driver's seat. She backed Dean's car out of the driveway and drove off down the street. 

 

 **A** few minutes later, she pulled the Impala into one of the front parking spots at the school. Putting the keys in her pocket, she locked the car, grabbed her backpack, and headed off towards the school building. She arrived just a few minutes before third period got out, so she wandered the halls. She was stopped once or twice, but pulled out a pre-prepared hall pass, and was let on her way. She rounded the corner just as students were being let out. Rough hands grabbed her backpack and flung her into a locker. Alex fought free and spun around to see Calvin. "Hey, girl," he sneered. "You remember me?" 

"How can I forget a face like that?" Alex spat back. Calvin shoved her back against the locker. Alex looked past him to see a crowd gathering. "Leave me alone." 

"Leave me alone." Calvin mimicked a pleading voice. "I don't think so." 

"I'm not afraid to fight you again," Alex warned. "You remember what happened last time?" 

For a brief second, fear flashed through the bully's eyes, but it quickly dispersed. "Beginner's luck." He tightened his grip. "I've learned your tricks." 

"Shove off." Alex brushed his hand off her shoulder and stalked into the crowd, ignoring the glares she received. 

 

 **T** he end of the day came quickly. Alex avoided Calvin, which wasn't that hard to do. She walked out the front door, fishing around in her pocket for the keys. A fairly large crowd had gathered, mostly consisting of girls. They whispered excitedly, casting glances at something Alex couldn't see. She pushed her way through the crowd and stopped cold. A drop-dead gorgeous man was leaning against the hood of a just-as-gorgeous car. Short dirty-blonde hair stuck up, and green eyes scanned the crowd, his perfect face emotionless. A teenage girl waved at him, and the man let out a small smile, his white teeth flashing. He was wearing faded jeans and a white shirt covered by a nice-looking plaid button down. Alex sighed. 

When the man spotted Alex, he let out a small frown. He patted the hood next to him, and Alex reluctantly walked over and sat down next to him. She heard gasps from the crowd as they saw Alex with him. The man held out his hand. Alex rolled her eyes and handed him the keys. 

"Thank you." Dean crossed his arms. "So what, you think it's okay to take my car to school?" Only the slightest tension in his voice revealed his anger. 

"It's not like you were using it," Alex protested. "I just needed it for the day." She laid back on the hood, staring up at the sky. "Remember when we would pull the car into a field at night? We would lay here and stare up at the stars." She let out a small smile. "I would always have sit on the roof because there was only room here for you and Sam." 

"Yeah." Dean looked over at the young angel. "Yeah, I remember." 

Alex laughed. "You would always yell at me 'cause you thought I would dent the roof." 

Dean chuckled. "It never stopped you, though." They both went quiet, lost in their memories. "But that doesn't change the fact that you took my car," he finally said. 

Alex rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? But I had to get to school somehow." She ran her hand over the hood of the car. "You can't keep her hidden away forever." 

Dean let out a sigh. "I can try." He looked over at Alex. "And you can stay away from Baby. Did you even empty the trunk?" 

"I covered them up," Alex promised, referring to the weapons in the back. "I was in a hurry." 

"What if she had gotten towed?" Dean asked. "Or someone broke into her?" 

"Then we would have dealt with it." Alex lowered her voice as a teacher walked by. She laid back on the hood, content to be there with Dean. "I think you have a couple fans," Alex eventually pointed out, glancing at the crowd of girls who were still watching. 

Dean looked over at them, then flashed them a smile. They turned around, giggling. Alex rolled her eyes and shoved Dean off the hood of the car. "Stop it." 

Dean smiled at her. "Just having some fun." He looked over at Alex. "So? You made any friends? Any cute boys?" He raised an eyebrow teasingly.

"Dean. I have a _mate_. And not one who likes sharing." Alex let out a huff of amusement. "If I did meet a cute guy, he'd have to run far away."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. I don't think Cas would understand if he caught you hooking up with some twink." 

Alex was about to reply, but stopped as a all-too-familiar face came into view. "We should go," she whispered. 

"Is that that bully?" Dean asked. 

"Yeah." Alex watched Calvin and a couple of his goons approach her. 

"You gonna deal with him?" 

"Not today." 

Dean snorted. "You could easily beat those half-trained boys. They're all brawn, no brain." 

"Like you?" Alex joked half-heartedly. "Uh-oh." 

"Yo, Alex." Calvin folded his arms. 

"Calvin. What a surprise," Alex replied dryly. "You just can't let it go, can you?" 

"Come here." 

"You're going to try and fight me in front of him?" Alex motioned to Dean with her thumb. 

"Why not?" Calvin studied the car. "Nice wheels," he sneered. "It'd be a shame if something happened to them." 

At that, Dean stood up and crossed his arms, his biceps bulging. "You gonna hurt my car?" he challenged, taking a step forward, eyes blazing. 

Calvin backed up. "No," he managed to squeak out. "No sir." 

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Go away." Calvin nodded meekly and turned tail and ran. 

"Wow." Alex stood up as well. She ignored the enamored looks Dean was getting from the girls. "I'm glad you care so much about your car. I mean, really. So touching." 

Dean grinned. "Baby can't hold her own against a couple of thugs. You can." He pulled Alex into a stronghold. 

Alex struggled out. "Gross man. When's the last time you showered?" She shoved him with her shoulder. 

Dean just laughed, and shoved her back. Alex shoved him again, putting all her weight into him. Dean sidestepped, and Alex rolled to the ground. Dean laughed again. Alex retaliated by kicking his legs out from under him. Dean fell on top of her. 

"Oomph." Alex let out a gasp. "You've lost you're touch, old man. And replaced it with weight." 

"Have not," Dean protested. 

"Get off of me." Alex tried to shove him off. "This probably looks weird." 

Dean obliged and stood up, offering Alex his hand. She took it. "I would have won," was all he said. 

"In your dreams." Alex got into the passenger seat. Dean got in and started the car, pulling it out into the street. "I really missed this car." Alex ran her hand over the upholstery. 

"You can't drive her." Dean read her mind. 

"Aw come on, man." Alex slumped down in the seat. "Hey, where's Ben?" 

"Lisa picked him up. Then dropped me off here." 

"How long you've been waiting?" 

Dean shrugged. "Dunno. Five, maybe ten minutes." He lapsed into silence, that lasted the rest of the drive. 

 

 **"O** h, you found her." Lisa was in the kitchen as Alex and Dean entered. 

"Yeah. Safe and sound." Dean walked over to the fridge. 

Lisa looked slightly confused. "He talking about the car," Alex explained dryly. 

Lisa frowned slightly. "Well I'm glad you're okay as well. Any trouble with that bully again?" 

Alex shrugged. "Nothing I couldn't handle." 

Lisa sighed. "You can't keep standing up to him on your own. You should tell an adult." 

"He'll leave me alone soon enough. Once he figures out he can't beat me." Not wanting to answer anymore questions, she left the room. 

 

 **S** he managed to stay up all night, never giving Lucifer a chance to get into her head. Thanks to her partial 'angel-ness', as Dean so kindly put it, it wasn't very hard. The next morning, she still felt awake. School was uneventful. Alex managed to avoid Calvin, along with several other younger teens, who seemed to see her as a hero. That made Alex chuckle. Her. A hero. Right.

 

 **T** he end of the day came, and Alex was sitting in eight hour health, bored as hell. Suddenly, the door opened, and a man stepped through. Alex's head snapped up, shocked. Large golden wings arched high above his head, glowing in the sunlight. "Gabriel?" she mouthed.

"Can I help you?" Mrs. Whats-her-name asked the man crossly. 

"Ah, yes." Gabriel shot her a smile, eyes scanning the classroom. Several girls blushed and shied away, whispering. However, his gaze passed over them, and came to rest on Alex. She saw him freeze, shocked. It faded before Alex could be sure. He pointed a finger. "I'll take that one." Awkward silence. Everyone's eyes rested on Alex. 

She felt herself blush, and hit her head on the desk in embarrassment. However, she couldn't help but smile.

"Excuse me?" The teacher looked confused. "I'm sorry, but you can't just take one of my students without a note." 

Gabriel flicked his hand, a slip of paper appearing in his hand. He handed it to her. "Z." He seductively beckoned her forward with one finger. Alex stood up, grabbing her backpack. She slowly approached the archangel, watching for any warning sign.

"Why do you know all the cute guys?" one of the girls whispered to her. Alex shrugged. 

"Is _that_ one your boyfriend?" another asked. Alex blushed slightly and ignored her. 

Gabriel, however, heard everything. "Boyfriend, eh? Haven't you told them?" He smiled at her, watching Alex's reaction. She rolled her eyes. The archangel laughed and held open the door. "Shall we?" 

Alex slipped out of the door, and Gabriel wrapped an arm around her waist, enjoying the others' reaction. Alex waited for the door to close before she turned to him. "What the hell?" she asked. "You want to explain yourself?" She lowered her voice, "You're suppose to be hiding far away from here. What if Dean sees you?" 

Gabriel chuckled. "Relax," he told her. "You're the one who said you wanted to talk." 

"Yeah, like a month ago. When it was safe." 

"It's safe enough," the archangel promised. "Now, when did you become an angel? And since when do angels need to go to high school?" He grabbed her left wing, rubbing a black feather between his thumb and forefinger. Alex wrenched it away, gasping at the pain. Gabriel frowned. 

"Broken," Alex explained. When Gabriel made a questioning noise, she added, "Lucifer. I'll explain later." 

"Lucifer?" Gabriel began. 

Alex cut him off. "Here. I'll call Dean, tell him not to pick me up. Then we could go to the mall or something." 

"Like, on a date?" Gabriel joked. 

"In your dreams." she shot back lightly. She dialed Dean's number. "Yeah, hey Dean. Alex. I'm not going to need a ride home today. I'm going to the mall after school." Pause. "Uh-huh. Okay. Bye." She hung up. "Let's go." 

Then, they were at the mall. Alex sighed angrily. "You can't--"

"I'll do what I want," Gabriel said humorously. "Now, would you mind explaining the angel part?" His eyes glimmered. "Who was it?" 

"Castiel," Alex admitted. 

Gabriel clapped, making Alex jump. "I knew it!" he exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of the nearby shoppers. He lowered his voice. "I knew it. The way Cas fawned over you, making sure you were always okay. That should have given it away. But where is your angel now?" he asked. "Why are you here?" He motioned to the mall. 

"Because you brought me here?" Alex joked. Surprisingly, she felt very comfortable around the archangel. 

"Haha. Funny. You know what I mean." Gabriel stopped, turning to face her. "No angel in his right mind would let a female angel wander on her own." 

Alex felt herself blush, but refused to acknowledge it. "You're a bit out of the loop, aren't you? Heaven's at war, divided. And Cas is smack dab in the middle of it. It's him vs Raphael. Cas wants free will, Raphael wants Mike and Luci." 

Gabriel stopped, rather shocked. "Really? You're on a nickname basis with them now?" 

"That's all you pulled away from that?" Alex gave him a hearty shove. The archangel barely budged, but politely recoiled to make her happy. 

"So heaven's at war," he repeated. "How long?" 

"Almost a month." 

"And Cas is really standing up to Raphael? Even I won't do that. Raphy can be a real dick." 

"Is he older than you?" Alex looked up.

"Yeah. Younger than Luci, older than me."

"So you're the youngest." 

"No. Of course not." Gabriel looked down the female angel. "Don't you know your archangels?" 

"Apparently not." 

"There are seven. Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, me, Remiel, Cassiel, and Ariel. Ariel's dead. Killed by a Leviathan. Nasty things." Alex nodded her head in agreement. "Apparently chomping on normal angels isn't a big deal, but eating an archangel gets you cast into Purgatory. Also, the younger the archangel, the less powerful. But you probably knew that. That meant Ariel was only slightly more powerful than the strongest seraphim." 

"Right. It goes archangel, seraphim, normal angel." 

"Archangel, seraphim, cherubim, normal angel," Gabriel corrected. "Then cupids. But we don't associate with them."

"What are cherubim?" 

"They're more of the specialized angels. Scribes, medics, etc. Uh, Metatron, Ephriam, Virgil, angels like that. Their power ranges, but generally is slightly less than the seraphim."

Alex nodded her head in understanding. "Got it." 

"Your turn." Gabriel stopped walking. "Explain. Why is your wing broken?" 

"I told you." Alex adverted her eyes. "Lucifer did it." 

"At the motel?" 

Alex shook her head. "No. I didn't have wings then." 

"Then you saw him afterwards? When you put him back into the cage?" 

"I don't talk about it." Alex crossed her arms. 

"Why not?" Gabriel stepped closer to him. 

"Because. I just don't." 

"Did he kidnap you? Did he hurt you?" 

Alex sighed. "It's a long story." 

"I have time." He folded his wings forward slightly in worry. "Z?" 

Alex looked up into his hazel eyes, then looked back down at her shoes. "He didn't kidnap me. He . . . bought me," she mumbled, feeling herself blush. She felt Gabriel stiffen slightly, but quietly let her continue. "Crowley kidnapped me. He knew he could sell me, and wanted to get on good terms with Lucifer." 

She felt the archangel step forward, reaching out to take her hands. He rubbed his thumbs over the back of her hands. "Sorry about that, Z. Most of my brothers of bags of dicks. Luci especially." 

Alex gave a noncommittal grunt. 

"Now, tell me this." Gabriel stepped even closer, his face only inches from hers. "If Cas has been gone for a whole month, how are you still controlling yourself around angels? Especially around me, hmm?" He raised an eyebrow, pulling his mouth up into a soft smile. 

"It's easier than you think," Alex retorted. 

"You know what I mean. Female angels can't go very long without their mate. Maybe you noticed? So who's keeping you --"

"--stable?" Alex finished. "None of your business." 

"If I didn't know any better, I would almost say that sounds like Lucifer," Gabriel told her. "But he's in the cage." He studied Alex, who refused to meet his eyes. "Oh." His eyes lit up. "Really? Is that how it is?" Alex said nothing, still studied her shoes. "You never struck me as that type." 

"Shut up." Alex spun around and walked away. 

"Does Cas know?" Gabriel's voice stopped her. She felt him walk up behind her. She didn't answer. "Mm. Okay. Different question. Why did you do it? Why did you save my life?" 

Alex turned to face the archangel. "Why wouldn't I? I've been trying to save people for two years. It doesn't always work. But once, it did." 

"You risked your life to save mine," Gabriel repeated. "People don't jump in front of a train to save someone they've only met twice." 

"Why wouldn't they?" Alex tilted her head to one side. "You were willing enough to save us." 

"Yeah, well, to me, Luci's my brother. To you, he's the devil." 

Alex shrugged. "The worst he could do was kill me," she muttered. 

Gabriel studied her, shaking his head. 

 

 **A** lex slumped in her chair, staring sullenly at the large glass door marked, ‘PRINCIPAL.’ It was the next day, barely past lunch, and she was already in trouble. She rubbed her forehead and traced a small cut on her forehead with her pointer finger before wiping the blood disgustedly on her jeans. The door opened, and Calvin stepped out. His left eye was almost swollen shut, and he was cradling his right wrist tenderly. He glared at her. 

Alex smirked, good wing flicking in contempt. Two women exited the room as well; one was Mrs. Cormack, Calvin’s mother. The other was Principal McKinney. Alex watched Mrs. Cormack led her son away. 

“Ms. Winchester.” Principal McKinney beckoned Alex forward. Alex stood and stepped into the principal’s office. “Where’s your guardian?” 

“Dunno.” Alex shrugged. “No promises they’ll show.” 

“Sit down.” 

Alex did as she was asked. Mrs. McKinney sat down at her desk, and Alex stared at the glass door, having no intention of talking. It hadn’t been her fault; Calvin had taken the first swing. She had barely even provoked him. But of course she was in trouble. The young angel’s lips curled upwards into a smile. She was pretty sure she had broken his wrist. He had _totally_ deserved everything.

There was a knock on the door, and it opened. Alex slid further down into her chair. Jeans, jacket, and a face that was twisted into confusion and disappointment. Alex looked away. 

“Is there a problem?” Dean stepped into the room, eyes focused on Alex. 

“Principal McKinney.” The woman stood up and extended her hand. “You’re Alex’s guardian?” 

Dean nodded. “Dean Winchester,” he introduced himself. “What seems to be the problem?” 

“Please. Have a seat.” 

Dean sat down beside Alex, who sullenly glared at the floor. 

“Mr. Winchester, Alex got into another fight.” Principal McKinney folded her hands and rested them on the desk. “Now, this is the third incident in just two weeks.”

“Same guy?” 

“Yes.” 

Dean looked over at Alex. “Who started it?” 

“He did,” Alex mumbled. 

“See?” Dean turned back to the principal. “If I remember correctly, this Calvin guy started it each time. So it’s just self-defense.”

“Mr. Winchester, Calvin walked out of here with a black eye and a broken wrist. We have eyewitnesses that say Alex not only provoked the fight, but continued to hit him even after Calvin was down.” 

Alex studied her hands. Okay, that part was true. 

“Your daughter is very troubled, Mr. Winchester. We think it would be a good idea for her to start seeing the school counselor.” 

“What?” Alex raised her head, indignation flickering in her blue-grey eyes. “I don’t need a counselor!” 

Principal McKinney let out a small sigh. “I can see it in your eyes, Ms. Winchester. In both of yours. You both have seen things and done things, and I’m not going to ask what you’ve done or what has been done to you, but those things have no place in this school. Do you understand?” 

Alex lowered her gaze. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Very well. I contacted Mr. Swanson, and he’s agreed to meet with you. He’ll be here any minute. You can stay in the waiting room until then.” Principal McKinney stood up. “May I speak to you alone, Mr. Winchester?” 

Alex took that as her cue to leave. She slumped down on a wooden bench, head leaned back, staring at the ceiling. She could hear the low hum of Dean’s voice, but couldn’t make out any words. 

The far door opened, and a man stepped through. Sandy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, tan skin. “Alex Winchester?” 

“More or less.” Alex stood up, holding out her hand. “Mr. Swanson, I presume.” 

“Please, call me Mitch.” Mr. Swanson motioned for Alex to follow. She did so sullenly, trailing after him into his office. “Now, I’ve heard that you’ve been having a bit of trouble lately.”

“I’m fine.” Alex slumped down in a super soft chair, watching as the counselor did the same. 

“Now, Alex, you can tell me anything you want. Nothing leaves this room, no matter how crazy it may sound, do you understand?” 

Alex lowered her gaze at how close to the truth his words were. “I . . . no thanks. Everything’s fine.”

“Something’s biting at you,” Mitch studied her closely. “What happened?” 

Alex shook her head, completely bewildered why she was doing this. “A lot has happened.” She laughed dryly in disbelief. “Too much to talk about.”

“I have all the time in the world.” Swanson leaned forward. “You’ve been hurt.”

Alex snorted. “Yeah. A lot, actually.”

“By your guardian?” 

“What? No!” Alex spluttered, shocked that he would even consider that. She closed her eyes, head falling back against the chair. “There was this one guy. He — he’s gone now. Far away. He . . . hurt me. I was scared and alone.” Alex shook her head. “But he’s gone now. I’m fine.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“He’s still in my dreams, but he can’t hurt me now.” Alex shook her head. “Seriously. I’m fine.”

“Does he still hurt you in your dreams?”

Alex hesitated. “I — it’s complicated . . . he hasn’t hurt me. I mean, I don’t know. It feels like he should be hurting me, but he doesn’t.” She sighed, head dropping her her hands. “I don’t even know anymore.”

 

 **A** lex pushed her way out of the school building and stomped towards the car. Dean followed, close on her heels. “So . . . how was the counselor?” he asked, voice bordering on cheekiness. “Have a good heart-to-heart?” 

“Shut it, Winchester.”


	56. Heat of the Moment

**T** hat night, after ice cream and a movie, Ben headed up to bed. Lisa soon followed, after Dean promised to be right up. Alex, who was sitting in the chair, moved to the couch next to him, and crossed her arms. "Did Lisa know I'm an angel?" she asked suddenly. 

Dean looked guilty. "No," he said firmly. "And it's going to stay that way." 

"Why?" Alex looked over at him curiously. 

"Because the less she knows about that kind of stuff, the better." He met Alex's gaze. "I just want what's best for her." He chuckled slightly. "And how would I even tell her? 'Surprise. This girl you've taken in is an angel?" 

"An angel?" Both Dean and Alex jumped at the sound of Lisa's voice. Dean looked guilty but turned to face her. 

"Yeah, you know. An angel. A great person," Dean quickly explained. Alex looked insulted, but Dean elbowed her in the gut. 

Lisa approached. "Dean. We both said you wouldn't lie to me." Dean looked guilty again. "You two have been sneaking around ever since she got here." She narrowed her eyes. 

"We haven't been sneaking around, Lis," Dean said. "She's been through a lot, and I need to be there for her."

Lisa stood up. "I'll be in bed if you need me." She walked off towards the stairs, swaying her hips slightly. Dean stood up to follow, but Alex pulled him back down. "Dean." 

"She doesn't need to know you're an angel," Dean whispered fiercely. 

"Why not?" 

"It's for her best." 

Alex hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. I understand." 

"Just don't tell her. Okay?" 

"Okay. I promise. I guess you're right. She doesn't need to know." Alex stood up, and he did so as well. 

He walked her up to her room. "Sleep well." He hugged her good night. 

"Night Dean." Alex closed her door behind her. She looked around her room. It was hard to believe that only a month or so ago, she was living in motel rooms with two brothers, traveling around the country, never stopping or daring to make friends. Now she had a normal life; well, as normal as it could be. She finally had a house, her own room, her own closet, her own clothes; she even had a bookshelf for her own books. She changed into her pajamas and collapsed on her bed. She lay there, not wanting to fall asleep. 

"Cas?" she called softly. "You can hear me, right?" She paused. "Cas, I'm scared," she finally admitted. "I keep dreaming about, about Lucifer." She whispered his name. "It's getting worse." A tear slipped down her cheek. She waited, but nothing happened. She let out a shaky sigh. "Well, goodnight Cas. I love you." 

 

 **"I** love you," Lucifer mocked. 

Alex rolled her eyes as she stood facing him. "Would it hurt to give me a day off?" she muttered. They were back in the bedroom of her house.

"But isn't this so relaxing?" Lucifer put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer. Alex bared her teeth slightly. "Ooh." Lucifer sucked in a breath. "Can you feel it? All that anger, boiling beneath your skin?" He squeezed her tight. "You sure know how to turn me on." 

Alex suppressed a shiver and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. 

"Don't pretend, girl." Lucifer didn't let her go. "You _like_ it." 

Alex shook her head. "Not a chance." With a sudden burst of strength, pushed herself away. Lucifer dropped his arms, and Alex stumbled back. She tripped over the bed, and fell backwards onto the sheets. She quickly righted herself on the other side of the mattress. 

Lucifer flew over to her. "Come on." He raised his hands. "Take a swing." 

Alex looked confused. "What?" 

"Punch me." He grinned. "Go on. You won't hurt me." Alex hesitated. "You may as well try before I change my mind." 

Alex shrugged and balled her fist. She swung at him, connecting with his jaw. 

“Ow!" Lucifer reeled back. "I meant my stomach, not my face." 

Despite herself, Alex laughed. "Then you should have specified." 

"I will next time." He rubbed his jaw and scowled playfully. "Come on. Try again." 

Alex didn't ask questions. She punched him in the gut. 

"There. You feel better?" 

Alex swung at him again. Lucifer blocked her fist. "I didn't say keep going," he laughed. Alex didn't stop. Lucifer continued to block her punches. Alex tackled him, and they fell to the floor. They wrestled for awhile until Lucifer gently threw her across the room. "Calm down, girl." His laughter was contagious, because Alex smiled. She pulled herself up into a sitting position. "Don't make me come over there," he warned.

Alex let out a small laugh, her eyes sparkling. Lucifer crept up on her on his hands and knees. Hunger sparked in his eyes with such an intensity that it took Alex back. He moved silently, but quickly covered the distance between them. Alex scooted backwards until she was backed up against a wall. The playfulness died from her eyes. Lucifer noticed, but didn't seem to care. He crept forward until he was hovering over her, his face inches from hers. 

Thinking fast, Alex pulled her knees up to her chest, then pushed them back out strongly, kicking Lucifer backwards. He let out a startled noise, and landed awkwardly in a tangle of limbs and wings. Alex flung open the bedroom door and raced down the stairs. She heard Lucifer following her, his footsteps almost silent on the wooden floor. He quickly caught up to her, scooped her up in his arms and tossed her onto the couch. Alex hit the cushions face first and quickly flipped herself around so she was facing him. She scrambled into a sitting position before he could do anything. Lucifer launched himself onto the couch next to her. Alex tensed, pulling her feet under her, ready to jump up and run off.

"You thinking of running again?" He leaned towards her. "You should. That was fun." 

Alex let out a huff, but didn't move. 

Lucifer shrugged. "Suit yourself." He leaned even closer to her, his eyes trained steadily on her. Alex jumped up and over the back of the couch and ran into the kitchen. "There we go," he laughed. " _Le adna agi.”_

Alex hissed at the Enochian words. She watched him approach, like a cat stalking its prey. She unconsciously took a step backwards. As she watched, everything shimmered and disappeared. 

 

 **S** he snapped open her eyes. Her room was still dark, but Alex knew something was different. She slowly sat up. As her eyes adjusted, she let out a startled cry. There was someone in the room, but the room was so dark she couldn't recognize him. She heard the door open and the lights flickered on as Dean stepped in. "Cas?" He stopped. 

The angel in a trench coat stood beside Alex's bed. "Hello Dean."

"What the hell are you doing here?" the retired hunter exclaimed. 

"Dean, what's going on?" Lisa froze as she caught sight of Castiel. "Should I call 9-1-1?" She whispered.

"No. He's a friend. Go back to bed, Lisa." Dean ushered her out of the room and closed the door. He looked over at Alex. "You okay?" 

"Yeah. He just startled me." Alex shook out her ruffled wings, wincing at the pain. Castiel looked at her worriedly. 

"You two want to be alone?" Dean guessed. He opened the door. "Just keep it down." Alex shot him a glare. He closed the door behind him. 

"Are you okay?" Castiel looked down at Alex. 

"Yeah." Alex tossed back the covers and stood up. She threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. Castiel wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. Alex leaned back. Cas kept his arms around her, keeping her close. "I missed you so much," she whispered. 

"I missed you too, _le pas enay._ “ 

_My little angel_. His words translated in her mind. Alex closed her eyes for a brief second, pulling him into another hug. His scent filled her mind, and Alex felt stronger. "What are you doing here?" she mumbled into his chest. 

"I told you. Whenever you call, I will answer." 

Alex didn't respond, not wanting to move away from him. "Thank you," she finally whispered. 

"Anything for you." 

They stood there quietly for several minutes. Castiel sighed quietly, perfectly content just holding his angel. "I can't stay long," he whispered into her hair. "Were you dreaming?" 

Alex nodded. "Can you make it stop?" 

"Yes." Castiel didn't move. 

"Are you going to make it stop?" Alex asked after a few seconds. 

"No." 

"No?" Alex stepped away from him. "Why not?" Her voice rose. 

"Because." The angel's voice remained steady. "Without him, you'll go insane. You're a female angel, Alex. You need to be around him. I don't like it any more than you do," he added, "but right now it is the best option. He can't hurt you." Castiel stepped towards her. "And right now he's helping." 

"Helping?" Alex hissed, trying to keep her voice down. "He is not helping, Cas." 

"Yes he is," Castiel corrected her. "Alex, I know this isn't what you want. But without him, the other angels will find you, and you won't be able to resist them. _Please_.” His deep blue eyes sparkled with worry. 

Alex closed her eyes, knowing he was speaking the truth. "Fine," she murmured. "And you're right. I don't like it." She sighed and closed her eyes. "Are you hungry?" she asked suddenly. 

Castiel looked confused. "Why would I be hungry? I don't need to eat while on Earth." 

"The key word being 'need'. Come on." She led him down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

"Did we need to walk here?" 

"Yes." Alex opened the refrigerator door. "What are you feeling? We got leftover steak." She pulled it out of the fridge and handed it to Cas. "Can you heat this up?" 

Castiel responded by snapping his fingers. Alex turned around when she heard the sound of sizzling meat.

"Uh, okay. I meant in the microwave, but, uh, okay." She trailed off. "Is it even safe to eat?" 

"Why wouldn't it be?" Castiel met her confused gaze. 

"Right. Why wouldn't it be," Alex echoed. She reached into one of the cupboards and pulled out a bag of potato chips. "Would you rather watch tv or eat here?" She motioned to the couch in the family room and the kitchen island in turn. 

"Whatever you want." Castiel looked down at the steak. 

"Whatever I want," Alex echoed him again. "Great. Then I vote tv. Come on. Time in introduced you to _Doctor Who_.” She led the way over to the couch, setting the chips down on the coffee table and returning to the kitchen to grab another plate and some utensils. "You thirsty?" 

"No." 

"Okay." Alex grabbed a coke and returned to the couch. She sat down next to Cas and turned on Netflix. "You want to start with the classics or the new stuff?" 

"Which is better?" 

"We'll start with the newer stuff," Alex decided. She started season 1, episode 1. She took part of a steak and put in on her plate. Castiel took the rest. 

"It's good," he said after trying a bite. 

"Yeah," Alex agreed. "Apparently Dean's a pretty good cook. Who knew?" She popped the tab off of the aluminum can and took a sip. She settled down next to Castiel and turned her eyes to the screen. 

 

 **"I** don't get it," Cas said after a several minutes. 

Alex let out a grunt, inviting him to explain. 

"This man blew up an entire store to kill plastic dolls?" 

"Evil plastic dolls," Alex corrected. 

"And then he can tell exactly how fast the earth is spinning by closing his eyes?" Castiel looked at her questioningly. 

Alex put her empty plate on the coffee table. "You're way to critical," she joked, curling up next to him. Cas put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. He gently covered her with his large wing. Alex sighed in contentment. She melted into her mate, their bodies fitting together perfectly. She wiggled closer, and she felt Castiel relax. Alex sighed again. "I missed you," she murmured. 

Castiel looked down at her. "I'm sorry for not coming sooner," he apologized. "But I have an army to lead. And I can't have you found." He dipped his head to press a kiss on her temple. "I'll do anything to keep you safe." 

Alex raised her head to meet his lips. She groaned softly as he kissed her back, and warmth rushed through her limbs. 

 

 **A** fter a while Castiel shifted so he was leaning over her, dominating the now-heated kiss. Hands curled in his soft hair, tugging him closer. 

Alex closed her eyes as he kissed down her jaw and neck, always returning to her lips. Her fingers dug into the arch of his wings needfully, and she tugged his bottom lip into her mouth. He closed his eyes, letting out a small moan when --

"Alex? What the _hell_ are you doing?" 

Alex jumped and pulled her head away. Castiel raised his wings -- which hid very little from humans -- and Alex saw Lisa standing in the doorway, arms crossed angrily. Heat flushed through her cheeks. "Lis," she began embarrassedly, face burning. _Shit._

"Don't 'Lis' me, young woman." Lisa took a step forward. "Well? Care to explain?" 

Castiel opened his mouth, but Alex placed a finger over his lip. He kissed it gently, moving so Alex could sit up. 

She heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and looked over to see Dean appear around the corner. "Everything okay?" He looked pointedly at the eaten steaks. "That was going to be lunch tomorrow." 

Alex silently protested as Castiel stood up. "They were very good," Castiel said politely. 

Dean still frowned, but turned his attention to the angel. ”So, Cas, how've you been?"

"It's been tough," Cas admitted, voice losing the warmth it always held when he talked to Alex. "I see you've adjusted well." 

"Yeah." Dean nodded. Lisa huffed angrily, and Dean looked down at her. "What's wrong?" 

"What's wrong? I caught these two --" 

"I should be going," Castiel said quietly, cutting Lisa off. Alex stood up beside him. "Keep her safe," he warned Dean. He pulled Alex into a hug. "I love you," he whispered, cupping her cheek in one hand. He kissed her gently. Alex slowly kissed him back, blushing with embarrassment knowing that Dean and Lisa were there. Castiel broke away and disappeared, leaving Alex alone with the two humans. 

Lisa looked shocked, but Dean just shrugged and turned to walk away. "Back to bed," was all he said. 

"Wait." Lisa stopped him. "You're just going to ignore that? I, I came down here and they were making out on the couch! Like, they were you know," her voice lowered, "grinding against each other." 

Dean groaned. "On the couch?" He glared at Alex lightheartedly. "I sit there." 

"You had sex in the backseat of the car," Alex shot back. "I use to _live_ back there. Besides." Alex blushed deeply. "It's not what you think. Maybe I should go back to bed." 

"No. No." Lisa blocked her way. "Sit down. We need to have a talk." 

"Why?" Alex asked quietly, but obliged. 

Lisa slightly narrowed her eyes at Alex. "Listen. Now, I know he's not human. But right now, that's not important."

Alex raised an eyebrow, but politely let her continue. 

"Alex, you're nineteen. I know having someone who loves you may be exciting; I was in the same place you are. But you still have your whole life in front of you." Lisa gestured off towards the spot Castiel disappeared from. "I don't know who he was -- or what he was --" 

"He's an angel," Alex said simply.

Lisa ignored her, not taking 'angel' as literal. "The point is, he's at least thirty years old. Maybe forty." 

Alex cast an amused glance at Dean. Forty. Right. Closer to four thousand. 

Lisa continued. "I don't know what's going on between the two of you, but it's not real. And I don't want you to give everything away to him. Because he won't care. And he won't stick around." 

Alex finally had enough. This was her mate they were talking about. "Are you done?" 

Lisa blinked. 

"Lisa, that was Castiel. He's an angel," Dean explained gently. 

"Yeah. I get that he's cute." 

"No. A _real_ angel. With wings." 

Lisa looked between Alex and Dean. "Seriously?" She looked at Alex, and her tone grew sharp. "Seriously?" 

Alex looked at Dean. "Lis, there's something you should know," Dean finally sighed. 

"Yes. There _is_ something I need to know."

"I'm not exactly, human," Alex said quietly. 

"Excuse me?" Lisa looked from Dean to Alex. 

"I'm an angel as well." Alex looked down at the ground. "Or, at least I will be. I'm kind of in between right now. Castiel, he's the one who made me an angel." 

"Made you an angel? What does that mean?" 

"It means, well, he turned me into an angel. It's kind of hard to explain. I don't really understand it myself. It only happened six or so months ago." 

"But you were --" Lisa repeated. 

"Yeah, he's kind of, like, my . . ." Alex trail off. 

Dean took over the explanation. "Lis, Castiel is Alex's mate." 

"Mate? Like, mate mate?" 

"Yeah. Mate." 

Alex blushed, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. "It's complicated." 

"So, what? Are you old? Like thousands of years?" 

"No," Alex laughed softly. "I'm only nineteen. Like I said, I was human first. Apparently all female angels were human at some point." 

"So you're nineteen. What about that man, or, angel? How old is he?"

Alex shrugged. "Five thousand years or so." 

Lisa looked at Dean, who shrugged. "So you don't have a problem with all of this?" 

"No, not really." Dean stretched out his legs on the coffee table. "If you think about it, it's not like he's going to find a girl his age anyways." Alex nudged him fiercely with her shoulder. Dean let out a chuckle.

"So he's like your husband. So you two have had . . ."

"Not yet.”

"But you will." 

"Can I go?"

Lisa sighed. "Go back to bed." Alex quickly obliged and ran up the stairs. She slid back into bed and quickly fell asleep, her mate's scent wrapped around her. 

 

 **S** he opened her eyes, back in her dream, back in the same spot from which she had disappeared. "You're back." Lucifer looked up from the couch. He snapped his fingers, and the television turned off. He stood up and walked over to her. Alex held her ground defiantly. He stopped, nose flaring. "You smell like Castiel." He stepped closer and scented the air again. "Is that where you went?" 

"Castiel showed up," Alex explained curtly.

"Why?" 

"Because I called for him."

"How adorable," he sneered. "And what did Cassie want?" 

"It's not important," Alex shrugged. "And apparently I'm stuck with you." 

"You called Castiel to get rid of me?" Lucifer looked throughly offended. "And I thought we had something special." 

Alex huffed, but didn't respond. 

"But he couldn't," Lucifer continued. He hugged her tightly. "On the bright side, I get to spend more time with you. I'm getting bored with Sammy. He's no fun." He smiled, "Not like you." 

"Cas can, but he didn't," Alex protested. 

"Of course," Lucifer nodded understandingly. "Without me, you'd never stand a chance out there," he whispered into her hair. "You need me." 

"Maybe I do," Alex admitted. 

Lucifer leaned back, looking into her face. "Yes, you do." He kissed her playfully on the nose. "So Cas is okay with you and me?" 

"I guess," Alex muttered. 

"Good. Thank him for me." Lucifer kissed her again, stopping her from responding. Alex didn't kiss him back; she just waited for him to finish. Lucifer stepped back, his eyebrows furrowed together. "Fine," he huffed. He ran his hands down her arms, lacing his fingers through hers. "Then what would you like to do?" He turned towards the fridge. "I don't suppose there is food?" He walked over to it, pulling Alex along. She followed. Lucifer opened the freezer. "Hm?" 

Alex peered over his shoulder. Empty. She shrugged. "Cas never restocks the food much," she explained. She knew Lucifer was going to object, claiming this was all in her head, but he didn't. 

He just closed the freezer door. "Fine." He turned back to Alex. "Anything else you want to do?" he raised a eyebrow, studying her. 

"Not really." Alex pried her hand out of his and sat down on the couch. She snapped her fingers. Nothing happened. 

Lucifer laughed. "Allow me." He snapped his fingers as well, and the television flickered on. 

"Can't even control stuff in my damn head," Alex muttered. Lucifer laughed at her comment, and sat down right next to her. Their thighs brushed, and Alex scooted over a few inches. 

"I don't think so," Lucifer chuckled. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. He positioned her so she was sitting comfortably against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. He placed his feet up on the coffee table, and Alex did so as well, leaning back into him. "There we go," he whispered into her neck. One hand slipped under her shirt, brushing light fingers across her stomach. Alex gasped slightly at the cold touch. They explored her skin, running from one hip bone to the other, tracing light patterns along the way. His fingers slid around to her back, running up her spine. Alex shivered. "Something wrong?" Lucifer whispered, his lips brushing against her neck. 

"Your hands are cold," Alex whispered back. 

"Sorry," the archangel apologized, but did nothing to change it. "So, how's the outside world going?" 

"Not too bad," Alex admitted, trying to ignore the icy fingers tracing her spine. "Dean's making me go to high school, now that we've settled down with Lisa and Ben." 

"Mm," Lucifer mumbled. "Is that good or bad?" 

"I would say bad," she decided. “It's stupid, cause I’m technically twenty, you know?” She let out a breath. “It was Lis’ idea, but Dean says I can get a GED over the summer. I don’t know.” She sighed again, head falling back slightly against the archangel’s neck. “They think we’re going to be ‘normal.’ They think Sam’s never coming back.”

Lucifer let out a snort. “He’s not. I’m quite content with his company.”

Alex continued over him. “School keeps me busy, if nothing else. There’s a bully — Calvin — but he's no real problem. The teachers are stupid. Our science teacher denies the existence of angels, which I find funny." 

"You should prove him wrong," the archangel told her softly. "Flare you wings, use some lightning."

"Maybe." Alex dismissed the idea. "Too bad my wing is still broken," she added pointedly. Lucifer opened his mouth to object, but thought better. Alex continued. "Then there's this guy. Name's Thomas. He's pretty popular, good looking, known to sleep around a lot with the other girls. He's been watching me." She felt Lucifer stiffen. "But I've been ignoring him. And, I mean, I could beat him up. If necessary. I'm stronger, and have a lot more experience, so . . ." 

"So you don't have a boyfriend?" Lucifer asked. 

"No." Alex let out a quiet laugh. "And even if I did find a boy I liked, I'd have to stay away from him, in case Cas comes back. He tends to smite first, ask questions later." 

"Mm. I can't blame him." Lucifer pressed a soft kiss on the back of her neck. "If you did have a boyfriend, I would personally find a way out of the cage to stop him." 

"Really?" Alex laughed again, but couldn't stop a warm feeling from spreading through her. 

"Yes. And I would challenge Castiel," he mumbled into her hair. "And then you would be mine." Alex blushed at those words. 

"You wouldn't want me," she teased, placing a hand over his. "You've never seen me when I'm grumpy." 

"I'm sure I could handle it," Lucifer teased back. "After all, I've managed all of your other emotions. Anger, hate," he pressed another kiss on her neck, "love." 

Alex didn't respond. Her mind was starting to shut down, and a weird feeling was stirring up in her stomach. It was stronger than what she normally felt when around a male angel; that was just a growing ache for love and attention. Now, it grew at an alarming rate; it started to pulse through her, raging through her blood. She gasped. 

Lucifer stiffened. He inhaled sharply, scenting the air. He suddenly rolled them over, pinning Alex beneath him. She let out a startled noise at the sudden movement. He buried his nose in the back of her head, breathing deeply before beginning to roughly kiss her neck. "Ow!" Alex yelped after a particularly rough one. "Lucifer! Stop it!" She thrashed around, desperately trying to throw the archangel off. A sudden flash of heated pain shot through her, and she gasped, unable to fight back. Lucifer sat up, and Alex rolled off the couch, trying to get away. She made it into the other room before another flash wracked her body. She collapsed. 

Lucifer walked over to her, his footsteps completely silent. "Alex?" he asked, his voice strained. 

"Leave me alone," Alex hissed, curling up on the floor. She wanted to disappear. 

The archangel knelt down beside her. He placed a hand over her burning forehead. "You're going into heat," he breathed, using all of his self control. Every instinct in him was screaming. Screaming to pounce on the young angel. Take her as his. But he held back. Just barely. 

Alex let out a low moan, eyes squeezed shut as more heat passed through her. “Heat?” she managed to get out. “I have to go into fucking _heat?!_ ” She rolled onto her other side with a cry of pain. “I’m not a fucking dog — ” She cut off with a cry. 

She felt Lucifer tense beside her, his breathing very much labored. "Let's get you upstairs," he said, voice hoarse. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs. He tried to block her out, her and her scent, growing even more tempting every second as the heat set in. However, it was difficult. Alex buried her head in the crook of his neck, blindly clutching handfuls of his shirt. He let out a tormented breath. He walked into the master bedroom, gently laying her down on the bed. 

"Alex?" he began, but his voice caught in his throat. "Alex? You need to wake up." He sat down at the bed, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. Because if he did, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop. "Do you hear me? You can't stay here. With me." He let out a heavy breath. "Please. Wake up." He wasn't sure if Alex heard him, and opened his mouth to repeat himself. But then everything began to shimmer. Alex faded, and then so did everything else. Heavy darkness pressed down on the archangel as he yanked out of the young angel's head and back into the cage. 

 

 **A** lex blinked open her eyes. Early sunlight filtered through her curtains and into her room. She rolled over, puzzled as she remembered her dream. A wave of heat passed through her, and her head dropped back onto her pillow. Nope. It was real. She pulled her covers up over her head, trying to find any source of relief. There was a knock on the door, and Alex heard it open. "Alex?" She recognized Lisa's voice. 

Alex let out a inaudible groan in response. She heard footsteps approach her bed, and it creaked as Lisa sat down on the edge. Alex silently protested as the covers were pulled away from her. She heard Lisa gasp. "Are you okay?" she asked, placing a hand over Alex's sweaty forehead. Lisa stood up. "Dean?" she called. "Dean!"

Alex heard loud footsteps coming up the stairs. Lisa stood up to meet him. Alex groaned again and pulled the covers back over her head. She heard Lisa and Dean talking in hushed voice, but didn't try to figure what they were saying. The bed dipped again, this time deeper, and Alex smelled Dean. He grabbed the edge of her comforter, trying to pull it away from her, but Alex held on. 

"Alex. Let go." Dean's soft voice reached her ears, and Alex relented. She looked up into the former hunter's face, which changed into deep worry when he saw her. "Are you okay?" 

Alex tried to respond, but another flash of heat wracked her small frame. She tensed, throwing her head back into her pillow. It slowly passed, and Alex found her voice. "I, I don't know," she gasped out quietly. "Lu . . . Lucifer said I was going into heat." 

“Heat?” Dean looked skeptical. “ Angels go into heat?”

“Aaugh!” Alex threw her head back in a loud cry.

Dean immediately lost his teasing tone. “So are you sick?" 

Alex faintly shrugged her shoulders. He placed his palm over her forehead. "You're on fire," he murmured. "Is this normal?"

Alex shrugged again. "Never happened before," she managed to force out through her parched throat. 

She tried to wrap herself back into her sheets, but Dean stopped her. "That'll make it worse," he told her gently. Alex whimpered. Dean stood up. "You're staying home today." 

"No shit, Sherlock." Alex's words turned into a hiss. 

"What's wrong with her?" she heard Lisa whisper quietly. 

"She says she's going into heat," Dean quietly informed her. It was met with silence. "Alex? Me and Lis are have to work today." He knelt down by Alex's bedside. "Do you need one of us to stay home?" Alex shook her head. She'd rather be alone. "Well, okay. Please call if you need anything." Dean brushed a stray stand of hair out of her face, his hand cool in contrast to her burning skin. Alex pushed her head into his hand. When he drew it away, Alex whimpered at the lack of physical touch. Then Dean and Lisa left. 

 

 **A** t some point, Alex must have passed out, because when she came to, it was 10:30. The room was darkened, and Alex realized Dean must have pulled the blinds. She lifted her head off of her pillow and flipped it over, relishing in the cold underside. She lay back down. Her long hair stuck to her sweaty face, and her damp shirt clung to her back. She started to toss back her sheets, but hesitated. She wanted to lose the hot, stifling blankets, but also didn't want to lose the comfort and security they held. 

After several painful seconds of thinking, she opted to lose the comforter, leaving on only the thin cotton sheet. Cool air rushed over her, and she sighed at the temporary relief. She closed her eyes, debating whether she should try to take a cold shower, but didn't think she could make it that far. She thought she heard the familiar sound of wings, but when she looked up, saw nothing. She collapsed back on the bed, her using her good wing as a light fan, her bad one still pressed up against her sweaty back. Eventually she gave up at finding any source of lasting relief, and spread her wing out across the bed. 

 

 **A** few minutes later, just as Alex was about to drift off into sleep, the bed dipped. Alex tried to pull her groggy mind back into the real world. There was someone else in the room; Alex could feel them above her, their chest barely brushing against her back. They shifted, supporting themselves with their elbows. Alex froze. She knew she was in a dangerous position; the scent of a female angel in heat was very tempting; it would draw male angels from all around. The fact that one was already here meant even more were coming; or that they had already come, and the angel now above her was the strongest of them all, having already defeated the other suitors. Either way, Alex knew she wasn't getting out of this easily. She felt a light breath on her ear. "Alex?" it whispered. 

Alex recognized the voice, but couldn't find hers to respond. 

"Imagine seeing you here," the angel continued. "I caught scent of a female angel, thought I'd come check it out. Never thought it would be you, though." A hot tongue flicked out, brushing over the shell of her ear.

Alex let out a silent gasp. "Go away," she hissed, even though it pained her to say those words. "Leave." 

The angel laughed quietly. "Why should I? You're up for grabs now, sweetheart." He lowered himself completely on her. Alex shuddered at the sudden physical contact, at the warm, heavy body pushing her down into the mattress. A hand ran down her side, cool against her burning skin. The other brushed over her wings. He gently rubbed her hipbone with his thumb before burying his nose into her neck, inhaling her heat. He bit her neck, lightly sinking his teeth into her soft flesh. 

"Gabriel." Alex gasped out the angel's name, though it sounded more like a plea then a command. 

"Hm?" he asked, kissing the bite mark. "What do you need?" 

"I need . . ." She trailed off as another flash of heat wracked her body. She lay there for a few seconds, recovering. "I need you to leave." Alex closed her eyes, trying to sound more confident then she felt. 

"Leave?" She felt him frown against her ear. "That's not very nice. I just got here." He rolled his hips, and Alex felt her body push up into him. 

"Leave," she repeated. Using whatever strength she had, she tried to dislodge the archangel on top of her, but to no avail. 

She felt Gabriel pause slightly in confusion. “You know, most females in heat wouldn't be able to resist an angel. Let alone an archangel such as myself," he quietly pointed out. 

"I like to consider myself unique," she hissed out, forcing herself to relax. She knew she wouldn't be able to fight him off. Not only was he much, much stronger than her, she was in heat, and was having a hard time controlling herself just talking to him. 

Gabriel laughed quietly. "Very cute, Z," he whispered into her ear. Alex didn't respond, too focused on the hands running up and down her side. 

"No witty response?" Gabriel nibbled gently on her earlobe. "I'm sure you'll think of something . . . afterwards." Heat flashed through Alex at those words, and she buried her head in the pillow. She felt her mind falling apart, and desperately tried to cling onto the pieces. Gabriel brushed a stray strand of hair off her sweaty forehead, and Alex whimpered at the touch. "I'm going to enjoy this," he murmured, pressing a light kiss on the side of her head. "And so are you. I know exactly how to make you feel better." 

Alex twisted her head, the heat taking over. 

“This heat’s hitting you hard, huh?” The archangel nuzzled at her neck. “Never seen an angel this strung out. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Gabriel shifted, raising his head to look around the room. "It's not safe here," he whispered, his warm breath stirring her hair. He ran his hands from her shoulders down to her hands, threading his fingers through hers. 

Alex felt him flare his wings, casting their shadow down on her. Then, before Alex could comprehend what was happening, he thrust them downwards, and the next thing Alex knew, she was on a different bed. "The hell?" she hissed angrily. 

"It's safer here," Gabriel promised. "There won't be any other angels to distract us. "

"They can still smell me," Alex reminded him, only to be cut off by a flash of heat. 

"Yes, but guess who else they can smell?" Gabriel whispered in her ear. "Me. This is my place. It reeks of me. They won't dare come in." 

Alex knew he was telling the truth, and went limp against the bed, accepting defeat. 

"There's a good girl," Gabriel laughed, raising her hands above her head. Alex complied, knowing she no longer stood any chance of being rescued. Suddenly Gabriel raised his head, scenting the air. He let out a low growl. "I'll be right back," he promised, and with a strong push of his wings, disappeared. 

Alex wished she could do the same. She buried her head in a pillow, hissing at the fact it smelled like Gabriel. Mustering up whatever strength she could, she hurled it across the room, listening to the satisfying thunk it made against the wall. She smiled, then clamped her mouth shut as Gabriel's scent filled her mind. She hissed again, feeling her body react to the scent. "Cas?" she whispered, pulling herself up into a sitting position. "Castiel?" Louder this time. She flinched as her voice bounced off the walls, making it seem louder. She lowered her voice. "Cas, please help me. I'm . . . I don't know where the hell I am," she admitted. "Just please hurry." 

She was interrupted by a flutter of wings, and trailed off. She fell back onto the bed, curling up. She raised her head, watching the archangel carefully, but kept her knees pulled up against her chest. "Who were you talking to?" Gabriel asked. He spied the pillow on the ground, and walked over to it, frowning. He held it up to her, asking a wordless question. Alex bared her teeth in response. 

Gabriel frowned again, wandering closer. He tossed the pillow back onto the bed, crawling over to her. He planted his arms on either side of her head, looking down at Alex. She squeezed her eyes close, trying to block him out. She had had enough trouble controlling her body when it had just been his scent; now, not only could she smell him, she could feel the warmth radiating off of his body, and his breath hovering above her head. 

"Were you calling for Castiel?" Gabriel clicked his tongue disapprovingly. He dipped his head, pressing a kiss on her collarbone. Against her will, Alex tilted her head away from him, baring her neck. 

“Alex.” Gabriel nosed at her exposed neck. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me, and I’m sure you want your mate. But he’s not here, and you _need_ to let me help you. You’re already in bad shape.” The archangel gently brushed her blonde hair away, trailing his fingers across the warm skin. Alex felt her body start to uncurl, lowering her knees from her chest. Gabriel shifted, giving her more room to move. He moved his head up slightly, trailing kisses up to her jaw. Alex turned her head to face him, looking up into his golden eyes. Gabriel pulled the corner of his lip into a soft smile, his face inches away from hers. He lowered his head slightly, lips barely brushing hers. Alex let out a quiet whimper, her heat making the teasing unbearable. The archangel laughed quietly, his breath warm on her lips. Alex moved her hands, wanting to wrap her arms around his neck, pull him closer. 

"Ah-ah," Gabriel lectured, shaking his head disapprovingly. Alex whimpered again, but obediently returned her hands to their original position. "Good girl," he whispered. His soft brown eyes gazed into hers, and time stopped. And then he kissed her. Hard. It was zero to sixty in a heartbeat. Tongue, teeth, hands, everything. Alex barely had time to realize what was going on; she just reacted. One hand found its way to his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. The other wrapped itself in his hair, holding his head close. 

Suddenly Gabriel was torn away, thrown against the far wall. Alex scrambled into a sitting position, looking widely around. Her heart jumped. "Cas?" A wave of heat ripped through her, and she fell back onto the sheets, eyes rolling into the back of her head. 

"Castiel." Gabriel stood up. "I was wondering when you would show up." He brushed the dust off of his jacket.

"Leave her alone," Castiel growled, positioning himself between the archangel and Alex. 

Gabriel raised his hands in mock defense. "She's up for grabs, brother. You weren't there to help her with her heat, so I just stepped in to help myself." 

A low growl resounded through Castiel's throat. A second flash of heat shot through Alex, stronger and fiercer than the one before. She gasped, flaring her wings and arching her back. The sudden gust of wind blew her scent towards the two male angels; both froze, turning their attention to her. Gabriel stepped forward, and Castiel flared his wings high above his head, turning back to the archangel. "Go away," he hissed. 

Gabriel frowned deeply. “She needs someone, Castiel. Now.” His nostrils flared, gaze returning to Alex. "If you don't mind, I was in the middle of something." Something glinted in Castiel's right hand: an angel blade. Gabriel raised his hands. "Careful, brother," he warned lightly. "You can put out an eye with that. If you're that serious about it, have her." He stepped back. "But if it happens again, I won't be so generous." There was a short pause, and nobody moved. "Well?" he snapped. "Get out of my house!" 

Castiel took several steps backwards, approaching Alex, but never taking his eyes off of Gabriel. He reached out, gently scooping her up.

“You need to help her, Castiel,” the archangel warned. “She can’t do this alone. You know this as well as I do.”

Then they were gone. 

 

 **T** hey were back in their house in heaven. Castiel let her stand, and Alex breathed a sigh, relieved. It didn't last long. "Are you okay?" Castiel asked her. Alex nodded. He studied her, nostrils flaring. "Good." His voice dropped an octave, growing deep and smoky. He stepped forward, pulling her into a rough kiss. He pushed her back into a wall, lips never leaving hers. He trailed kisses down to her neck, inhaling her heat. Teeth nipped at her skin, and Alex tilted her head away, baring her neck. Her heat made it impossible to resist, and everything in her screamed for him. 

Then, for a quick second, the heat subsided, and Alex was brought back to the reality of the situation. She started to struggle, throwing Castiel away from her. "Alex?" he asked, watching her carefully. He approached, pausing when Alex stepped back. 

"Go away," she warned, raising her good wing defensively. 

Castiel's head tipped to one side, confused, eyes narrowed. "No."

"Please." The burning heat returned, and she slumped to the floor, pulling her knees up into her chest. "I, I don't want this." 

Castiel knelt as well, though keeping his distance. "You're still not ready," he guessed. When Alex nodded, he add quietly, "You may not have a choice anymore." 

"There's always a choice," Alex hissed out, drawing her wings in close. 

Castiel sighed, and Alex knew how difficult she was being for him. "Where's Dean?" he finally asked. 

"At work." Alex closed her eyes. "Why?" 

"He can help." Castiel approached, voice straining with the effort of controlling himself. He reached out, and then, they were back in Lisa's living room. "Call him." He backed away slightly, waiting. 

"Then I'm going to need a phone, you ass." Alex hissed, the heat starting to burn once again. She watched him search the house. "There's one on the table." Castiel brought it to her, and Alex dialed Dean's number. "Come on, pick up."

He did. "Hello?" 

"Dean? Alex." 

"Hey, how are you doing?" 

"Eh . . . Um, can you come home? Please?" 

"Is it important?" 

Alex looked up at Cas. "Uh, yeah. It's uh, not good." 

"I'll be right over." Dean promised, his voice dark with concern. 

Alex hung up before he could ask any questions. She pulled herself up onto a couch. "Listen, Cas." She looked over at the angel, who was studying the coat rack intently. His head turned at the sound of her voice, blue eyes holding guarded hope. "Dean can't know about Gabriel," she whispered. "Okay?" 

Castiel looked confused. "Why not?" 

"Because he thinks Gabriel is dead," she reminded him as patiently as she could. "Remember?" 

"Right." Castiel furrowed his eyebrows, his blue eyes watching her carefully. "So we tell him it was a different angel." 

"Bingo." Alex shot him a half-hearted smile. She pulled herself to her feet, stumbling through the house and into the family room. She collapsed on the sofa, reaching for the remote. Castiel followed at a distance. Alex curled up in a blanket, trying to ignore the uncomfortable heat. She let out an involuntary whimper, craving physical touch. She caught Castiel's eye; he was staring at her, muscles tense, eyes unblinking. He shook his head, understanding what she wanted. She shivered, wings shaking. She heard Cas sigh, and she closed her eyes. 

 

 **F** ive minutes later, the back door opened, and Alex cracked open her eyes to see Dean walk through. He stopped, seeing Cas. "Uh, hey." He greeted him. 

"Hello." Castiel dipped his head in acknowledgement. 

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked. "Did Alex call for you?" He turned, seeing her on the couch. 

"I brought Alex back," Castiel explained, and Alex winced at his bluntness. 

"Brought her back?" Dean echoed. "Where did she go?" 

"Another angel found her," Castiel explained. "They could smell her heat." 

"Is she okay?" 

“ _She_ is fine," Alex called out, her patience all but lost. "Thanks for asking." 

"So what can I do?" Dean looked over at her. 

Castiel answered, "You can help her. Like all females in heat, she needs physical contact." He paused when he saw Dean shift uncomfortably. "Just stay near her. I will make sure no angels come near." 

"Why can't you stay with her?" Dean challenged, still looking uncomfortable. 

The angel looked down at his shoes. "A female's heat scent is very tempting," he explained slowly. He left it at that. 

"Ah." Dean nodded in understanding. He opened his mouth to expand his point with something witty, but thought better of it. With a flutter of wings, Castiel disappeared, leaving Alex with Dean. He approached her slowly. "Hey, girl. How you doing?" 

"Fine," she mumbled. 

"Can I get you anything?"

Alex struggled up into a sitting position. "Uh, something cold to drink?" 

Dean nodded, walking back over to the fridge. He pulled out a beer for himself, and a Sprite for Alex. When he handed it to her, she huffed in disapproval. "Hey," he defended himself. "Lisa ordered a strict no beer policy for you." 

Alex huffed again, but politely took the can. "I'm an angel," she muttered. "I can drink beer if I want." 

Dean chuckled, sitting down on the couch next to her. "Take that up with her," he advised. "Whatcha watching?" 

"Dunno." Alex handed him the remote. "Top Gear." She popped open the can, taking a long sip. She watched Dean flip through the channels. "Let's watch Lord of the Rings," she decided. 

Dean hesitated. "If you want," he finally agreed. 

"You might like it." Alex watched him put the DVD into the player, returning to the couch. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen the last two movies.” 

"Come here." Dean put his arm around her shoulder, and Alex curled up beside him. "You're on fire," he whispered, placing a cool palm over her head. 

"Sorry." Alex murmured, closing her eyes. She pushed herself closer to Dean. He shifted, stretching his feet out on the coffee table, pulling her up against her chest. Alex let out a sigh, burying her head in his shoulder. "You think Cas is watching us?" she asked into his shoulder.

"Huh?"

"You think he's watching us?" Alex repeated. Heat rippled through her, and she arched her back. Damn she needed someone. Now. 

"Why would he be watching us?"

"I dunno." Alex squirmed so she could look up into his face. "His mate's in heat, he's already tried to fuck me, and now he had to leave me with you. I'd be a little cautious too." She pushed herself closer as another round of heat washed through her. "Wanna find out?" she gasped. Then she closed her eyes, rolling her head back. She moaned out Dean's name, and couldn't help the fact that her hips rolled a little. 

There was nothing. Alex opened her eyes, looking up at Dean. He looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, uh, don't do that again."

Alex just wiggled her eyebrows. Then she fell back limp against him. "Sorry. Fucking heat." She closed her eyes. "Guess he's not listening in." She sighed. "I want Cas," she murmured under her breath. She opened her eyes again. "Think he'll come if I say his name?"

Dean grunted. "Anyone would come if you said their name like that."

Alex chuckled, his humor just as much comfort as his touch. "And you said I'm not sexy."

"You're not."

Alex wiggled slightly, trying to get comfortable. She wasn't, but she was starting to suspect nothing would be comfortable without an angel. She sighed, then her eyes drifted close. The image of Castiel fucking her seared through her brain, and she bit back a groan. "Cas." The name fell from her lips like a breath.

A flutter of wings announced his arrival. "What's wrong?" 

Alex looked up to see the angel standing stiffly across the room. "Just wondering if you were still around," she shrugged. "Missed you." She smirked. "I noticed you weren't close enough to hear us. I moaned Dean's name just like I did yours —”

Castiel's eyes flashed. "I try not to make other people's conversations my business. But if I do hear _anything_ like that again, one of you will be dead, and the other will be mated."

Dean huffed angrily. "Great. Thanks."

Alex shrugged. "I like it when he's jealous." Heat twisted through her grace at the thought.

"Uh, Cas, how long is she going to be like this?"

"Three or four days. Although it would go a lot faster if she would let me help." Castiel pointedly directed his words towards the female angel. "After the heat fades, she'll get rather . . . clingy. It's natural. If nothing comes up, I may be able to show up for that."

"Oh." Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Great." Castiel disappeared, and he grumbled, "You owe me."

 

 **A** lex woke up the next morning shivering. She stumbled out of her bed, down the hall, and barely made it to the bathroom before she vomited violently.

Dean was at her side within a second. "What's wrong?" He put a hand over her head. "You're hotter than yesterday. And you're shivering."

Alex rolled on the tile floor, tears streaming down her face. "Cas," she whined. "Please!" 

Castiel appeared in the doorway. "What's wrong?"

"She's worse." Dean placed a hand on her leg. "Fever, vomiting, how bad does this get, man?" 

The angel shook his head. "She's not meant to go through this on her own," he said quietly. “It isn’t suppose to be this bad.” He let out a long breath through his nose. “This isn't natural.”

“What?” 

“Heat’s aren’t suppose to hurt. She’s suppose to be sexually insatiable, but not in pain. Not like this.” Castiel leaned against the doorframe. “She needs an angel to help.” 

Alex curled up tightly with a cry, clutching her abdomen. "Help me," she pleaded. She felt every atom in her twisting, pulling apart. She needed someone to help hold her together. She rolled into Dean’s touch with a strangled whine. “Help me please.”

Dean looked up at the angel. "You heard her," he snapped. "Help her!" 

Castiel shook his head, stepping back. "She doesn't want this," he insisted quietly. "That's the heat talking. I, I promised her I wouldn't force her into anything." With that, he disappeared.

“Cas!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only 2 chapters left in this story!


	57. Dear Agony

**I** t was a few days later before Alex was over her heat. However, since it was Friday, Dean let her stay home. Besides, Alex was slightly worried about him. He had been acting strange the past couple days. 

She rolled out of bed, looking at the clock. It was almost 8am. She sighed, walking down the hall, feet silent on the wooden floor. Downstairs, Dean was sitting in the kitchen, cleaning his Colt. Alex narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing?" 

Dean jumped, looking up, and Alex was shocked by his tear-stained face. She sat down next to him, wings pinned tightly against her back in worry. "Dean," she said slowly. "What's going on?" 

"Nothing, nothing." Dean shook her off. "I'm just cleaning my gun, okay? Can't I do that?" 

"Where are Ben and Lisa?" Alex was slightly taken aback by his coldness. 

"At school. At work," he grumbled, returning his gaze to his work. 

"What's wrong?" 

Dean glanced up at the sudden softness in her voice, but quickly lowered his eyes. "Nothing." 

"That's a lie." When Dean didn't respond, Alex sighed. "Is it Sam?" 

Dean said nothing, and Alex just shook her head. "It's going to be okay." She reached out with her wing, gently brushing his shoulder before remembering the gesture was unnoticed by the human.

"It's _not_ going to be okay!" Dean snapped. He snapped the magazine into his gun before stomping out of the room. Alex hesitated, but then hurriedly followed. Dean was in the living room, sitting on the couch, staring at the gun. He cocked it, studying it carefully. 

"Dean." Alex walked over to him, reaching for the gun. He pulled it away. "Dean," Alex repeated, sharper this time. "Give me the gun." 

"Why?" Dean looked up, eyes watering. "Why should I?" 

"Dean, give me the gun before you do something stupid. Please." Panic tugged at Alex's chest. 

"Sam's gone, Alex." 

"Killing yourself isn't going to bring him back." 

Dean just shook his head. "I-I can't do this." He looked up at Alex, eyes desperate and wide. "I can't keep living like everything's okay. Because it's not. I’m not strong enough, Pip.” He turned the gun, studying it from all angles. "Please. Just leave." 

"No." Alex was beginning to get desperate. "Dean. Stop. Please. Don't do this. I won't let you. Just give me the gun. We can work this out, okay?" Dean didn't respond. "Dean, think about this. What--what is Sam comes back, hmm? What if, by some strange miracle, Sam comes back, and he finds you here dead?" 

"He won't come back." Dean fiddled with the safety, eyes distant and unfocused. 

Alex knelt down beside him. "You don't know that. _Dean, please_. If not about Sam, what about me? Me, Bobby, Castiel? We're your family, and we've already lost you once. I don't want to lose you again." 

"You don't understand, Alex." Dean finally looked up, eyes locking with hers. "I can't live without Sammy. I mean, I could keep going without you, or Bobby, or even Cas, but not Sam." 

"I know how you're feeling, Dean. Sam was my family too. You're not the only one hurt by his death," Alex snapped. "Dean, right now you're the only person I have left. Cas is far off in heaven, I haven't talked to Bobby in months. What the hell am I suppose to do if I lose you too?" 

"You'll be fine."

Filled with another wave of panic, Alex suddenly reached up, placing two fingers on his forehead. She focused on her grace. _Sleep_ , she willed him. Dean collapsed, and Alex hurriedly checked his pulse. Still there. She let out a sigh of relief before clearing the gun, hiding it deep under the couch. She shoved the magazine into her pocket and stood up, only to find her legs were shaking. She grabbed her cellphone from out of her pocket, dialing a number. "Bobby?" 

"Who is this?" a gruff voice asked."Alex?" 

"Yeah. Hey." 

"You okay? You sound terrified."

"I am." Alex took a deep breath. "Dean, Dean just tried to kill himself." 

"What?!" 

"Yeah. I guess he's been really depressed over Sam. He's done a good job at hiding it though. Don't worry. I, uh, I stopped him." 

"How?" 

"I used some angel crap. Not really sure what I did. Put him to sleep or something." 

"Good. But, everything's under control?" 

"Yeah. Now it is. But I'm scared. I can't let Dean kill himself. What do I do?" 

"Don't know. Sorry, girl. You're just gonna have to figure this one out on your own. Listen. I got to go. I'm really sorry."

"Yeah. Whatever." Alex let him hang up. Casting a quick glance at Dean, she hurried out to the Impala. She collected every pistol she could find, then locked the weapons box with a large padlock. Then she buried the key in her pocket and hid the guns in the garage rafters. It was a spot she had discovered several weeks ago, and was the perfect hiding place. Then she went back inside. She fished Dean's Colt out from the couch before hurrying upstairs to check Dean's room. She found nothing. She grabbed her Colt from her bed; she kept it there for the same reason as Dean, then hid it back outside. Then, she sat down on the couch across from Dean and waited. 

 

 **I** t was several hours before Dean stirred. Alex hadn't moved a muscle, her eyes locked on the hunter. Probably an angel habit taking over. His beautiful green eyes flickered open, and Alex felt a tug of pity for her friend. Dean sat up straight, looking over at her. "What the hell?!" 

Alex said nothing. Her gaze remained on him, unblinking. 

Dean struggled to stand, but he slumped back down. "Where's my gun?" he demanded. "Dammit, Alex!" 

"Calm down." Alex held out a hand, palm down in a gesture of soft command. "You're okay." 

Dean glowered, but did as she said. "So what? You finally figured out how to work that angel mojo of yours?" he growled. 

Alex shook her head. "I don't know what I did," she admitted. "I was just scared." 

Dean looked around again. "Where's my gun? If you've touched it . . ." 

"I hid it." Alex's eyes finally flashed with emotion. "Dammit, Dean, what the hell were you thinking?”

“Give me my gun back!”

“No! I’m not going to let you do it!” Her voice took on a pleading tone. “Please, Dean. You’re stronger than this.” 

“Am I?” 

“Yeah, actually, you are.” Alex’s eyes flashed. “And I’m not strong enough to let you take the cowards way out.” Dean opened his mouth to protest, but she angrily continued. “Everything you’ve been through heaven, hell, and now you decided to flip the lights? What's Sam gonna think if he comes back and you're dead?"

"Sam's not coming back." 

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. But look at you! Dean, Sam made you promise that you'd get out of hunting and live a good life. And now you're just running like a dog with its tail between its legs. Dying won't bring him back." 

"Living won't bring him back." 

Alex decided she didn't care if he knew. She just wanted him alive. "Since when do you Winchesters ever stay dead? Lucifer's cage isn't impenetrable. Sam can be pulled out." 

Dean's gaze snapped to her face. "How." 

"I don't know." 

Dean stood up, approaching. "Tell me, dammit! How do I save Sam?" 

"You don't do anything!" Alex finally stood up, glaring up at the hunter. "So you're just gonna have to sit on your ass until Sam shows up, okay? No hunting him down, no bringing him back. Because _you_ can't. So you just have to stay put and live a decent life!" Her good wing flared out of agitation. 

Dean stepped back. "He comes back, right?" His voice shook on the verge of tears. 

"Yeah. It isn't pretty, and life never gets better, but he comes back." Alex's voice cracked, and she swallowed. 

Dean hurried upstairs. Alex watched him go.

 

 **D** ean came back down around noon. "Can I have my gun back?" he grumbled. 

Alex stood up, frowning. "What? Do you think I'm an idiot?" 

"I won't kill myself. Not if Sam is coming back." 

Alex huffed. "Fine. Stay here." She hurried out to the garage, pulling out the guns. She slid the guns back into the Impala's trunk before carrying hers and Dean' back into the house. "Here." She handed him his. “But if I so much as see you _look_ at it wrong, I'm shipping it to Bobby." 

Dean snorted in quiet laughter. "Yes, mom." 

Alex sighed, plopping down on the couch. Dean had turned the tv on, and Alex curled up next to him, post heat making her push herself close. She turned her eyes to the screen and grinned. “Dean. Can we go see this movie? Please?" It was an preview for _Despicable Me_. "I swear, I remember this movie. It was great!" 

Dean watched the trailer in silence. "Could be good," he slowly agreed. 

“Please?” Alex looked up into his face, pouting childishly. “We can take Ben and Lisa if you want. It --" 

"If I want?" A small smile crossed the ex-hunter's face. "What does that mean?" 

Alex lowered her gaze. "I, I mean, I was hoping just the two of us could go, but it'd be nice if they came too, I guess." 

Dean sat down next to her. "You don't like sharing?" he forcibly joked. 

Alex huffed. "I'm an angel. We don't do sharing." 

Dean laughed again, this time for real. "Whatever you say." He let out a quiet breath. "Sure, we can go. I'll see if Ben and Lis want to go." He looked over at Alex and placed a hand over her forehead. "Hey. head upstairs, okay? You still feel a little warm. Take a nap or something." 

Alex admittedly was tired. "Fine. But I'm taking _this_ with me." She grabbed Dean's gun. "If you kill yourself, I'll be forced to fly down into hell and pull your ass out of the hotbox myself." 

Dean smirked. "You'd do that?" 

"Hell yeah. Then I'd murder you myself." 

Dean laughed, but handed her his gun. "No thanks. If Sam's gonna come back, I'm sure as hell gonna keep fighting." 

Alex nodded and left the room. She climbed up the stairs, hurried down the hall, and closed the door to her room. She tossed her gun on the bed, followed by Dean's. Then she sat down at her desk, pulling out her laptop. Well, Sam's laptop. Hers now. 

She flipped it open, and it powered up. With a click, the internet opened, and Alex's hands settled over the keyboard. _Despicable Me t-shirts_. Enter. 

Several pages popped up. One in particular caught Alex's eye. _The Minions have the Phone Box_. No way. Despicable Me/Doctor Who crossover t-shirt? "I need this." 

She typed _The Minions have the Phone Box_ into the search box, and several more pages popped up. "I need this," she repeated with a smile. She'd keep tabs on this. 

 

 **H** er door opened. "Alex." A sharp, exasperated voice sounded behind her. 

Alex turned in her chair to see Lisa. "Uh, hey. What's up?" 

Lisa raised her eyebrows, glancing at the two guns on her bed. 

Alex followed her gaze. "Oh yeah. There was a, uh, incident. Everything's cleared up now." She looked up at Lisa apologetically. "I'll get Dean his gun back before Ben gets home," she mumbled, lowering her gaze. "Sorry." 

Lisa sighed, stepping into her room. "Why do you even keep that thing?" she asked. 

Alex didn't raised her gaze. "It makes me feel safe," she whispered. "I, back when I hunted, I'd always sleep with it under my pillow. I know nothing's gonna happen, but it helps me sleep." 

Lisa sighed again. "I wish you wouldn't." Was all she said. Then she left. 

Alex closed her laptop. She wished she wouldn't either. But it kept the nightmares at bay. 

 

 **A** fter returning Dean's gun to its spot under his bed and hers under her pillow, she crawled into her bed, letting out a large yawn. She wiggled uncomfortably, just wanting someone there. "Cas," she groaned. The residual heat was still there, and it ached deep inside her. 

 

 **"H** ow you feeling?" Lucifer was by her side within seconds of her arrival in her dream. 

Alex blinked, shrugging. "Okay," was all she said. "Tired." 

"I'm not surprised." Lucifer pulled her into a hug, inhaling her scent. "You smell delicious," he whispered. "Not heat-delicious. Just your normal scent." 

"Uh, okay." Alex slipped out of his hug.

"How was the heat?" Lucifer persisted, worry lining his voice. "You hardly slept." A hand ran over her shoulder, tugging her shirt aside. "Still unmated. Did any angel try?" 

"Gabriel," Alex answered bluntly. "Castiel showed up and chased him away." 

"Yet Castiel didn't mate you?" Lucifer spun Alex around so she would look him in the face. "You know I don't like it when you lie to me--" 

"I'm not lying. Castiel chased Gabriel away, but I didn't let him mate with me. I didn't want either of them to mate me. Gabriel didn't listen. He probably would have mated me if Cas hadn't shown up. Cas tried to mate me, but I begged him, and he didn't. The rest of the heat was spent with Dean. Happy?" 

Lucifer watched her face, looking for any sign of deceit. "I believe you," he finally said. “And I don't want any angel to mate you until I escape and can claim you as mine." 

Alex blushed. "That's not gonna happen." 

"It's gonna happen." Lucifer reached out, taking her hands in his. "Alex, I -- there's something between us. Something strong. Somehow we're able to keep in touch while I'm in the cage. We haven't even mated, yet somehow our graces our entwined. The bond isn't strong, but it's there. Don't you see? I, I can't explain it. We, we're just meant to be." 

Alex shook her head, stepping back. "You don't mean it," she growled. "You're the devil." 

"Alex--" 

"You're not even real!" Alex spun around, storming away. 

With a flutter of wings, Lucifer was in front of her. "I'm real," he growled back. "Even Castiel knows it. And I'm not lying. There is something going on here!" 

"Like I give a damn! I don't even want you in my fucking head!" 

Lucifer's eyes widened slightly in shock, then hardened into ice. "Well, you're stuck with me. I'm not giving up on you." He strolled forward, and Alex backed up nervously. "You seem to forget that I am still an archangel. I may let you speak to me however you wish, but that doesn't make you equal to me--" 

"See, this is how I know you don't care!" Alex yelled. "If you really liked me, you wouldn't give a damn that you're an archangel and I'm not. You wouldn't 'let me speak however I want' cause you're being nice, but cause you actually love me! You'd treat me like an equal--" 

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?!" The next thing Alex knew, her back was against the wall, and Lucifer was pinning her there with his body. His voice was quiet, and his breath against her skin cold. "I've let you do as you please. I've put up with your damn insults for weeks because I've been hoping that you'll come to see that what we have is something special. Something no other angels have." 

Alex opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Her eyes were focused on the archangel's lips, and she roughly tore her gaze back up to his eyes. 

Lucifer continued, his anger lessening. 'For all the years I've been in the cage, nothing like this has ever happened. There is something about you, about _us_ , that makes the impossible possible." 

Alex shook her head, pushing him away. "Cas is my mate," she whispered. 

Suddenly the world was flying, and her back hit the fireplace mantle. She screeched in pain as her head continued backwards and smacked against the brick. She slumped to the floor, dazed. 

Lucifer was kneeling by her side in a heartbeat, eyes wide. "I'm sorry," he apologized, pulling her into his lap. "I . . ." Hands ran over her, feeling for any injury. His grace pushed gently against her. "I'm so fucking sorry, Alex. I, it's just every time you mention _him_ \--" 

Alex tried to pull herself to her feet, but failed. Without a sound, the archangel scooped her up and carried her over to the couch. He placed her down gently. "Leave me alone," she hissed weakly. 

"I'm so sorry." Lucifer's eyes were wide with fear, a side of him Alex had never seen. "You're not hurt, are you? You feel fine. I, it's just a dream, too. You'll be okay." 

"Lucifer." Alex pushed the archangel away. "I'm fine, okay? It just knocked the breath out of me." 

Lucifer didn't leave. He sat down, pulling her into his lap. "I shouldn't have done that," he murmured, his voice and emotions back under control. "Sometimes I forget my own strength. Whenever you mention Castiel, I see red. I, it's . . you're mine, Alex." 

"I'm not," Alex retorted weakly. "I'm not anyone's."

The archangel smiled slightly, running light fingers down her jaw. "Of course not, _li mohaoth._ You're your own angel." 

Alex sat up. "Damn right I am," she muttered. 

"Of course," Lucifer added slyly, "if you were to be anyone's, you'd definitely be mine."

Alex gave him a hearty shove, standing up. Something about him made her feel good. She stepped forward, letting out a surprised noise as Lucifer pulled her down into his lap. "Luce!"

"Where exactly do you think you're you going?" he whispered teasingly.

"Away from you," Alex teased back, squirming away. 

Lucifer held her steady. "Cute." He let her go, and Alex stood up, walking into the kitchen. She heard Lucifer follow, his footsteps silent. Then, his arms were around her waist, and his head was buried in her neck. "So," he purred. "Now that you're in post-heat, you wouldn't be feeling like you want to . . . oh, I don't know, cuddle, maybe?"

Behind them came a loud growl, and both spun around. "Alex." Castiel stood there, wings flared in anger. 

Alex looked up at Lucifer, confused. He shook his head. 

"Get your filthy hands off of her." Castiel stepped forward menacingly.

Lucifer grinned slyly. "Brother, if you only knew of the things we've done, my _hands_ would be the least of your concern."

Castiel visibly bristled, and Alex whacked Lucifer across the chest with the back of her hand. "Luce," she reprimanded, blushing heavily.

Lucifer just grinned.

"What are you doing here?" Alex stepped forward slightly.

"You called for me." The seraph's voice was tight. "Before you fell asleep."

Lucifer frowned playfully. "And I thought we had something special," he teased, although Alex heard a darker meaning under his light tone. 

"I--I, uh . . ." Alex stepped away from the archangel. "He's my mate. I'll call for him if I want."

Lucifer's eyes flashed, but he stayed perfectly still. 

Castiel stepped forward, and then Alex snapped her eyes open. 

They were back in her room. Alex sat up, smiling. "I missed you." 

Castiel stared down at her. "What have you done with Lucifer?" he snapped, wings flared out in anger. 

"Nothing!" Alex looked up at her angel, eyes wide. "I swear. I, I said I didn't want s-sex, and I meant it. N-Not with you, not with anyone!" Tears came to her eyes, and she lowered her voice. "I want you to be my first. When I'm ready." 

Castiel closed his eyes, turning away. 

Alex let out a whimper. "Please, Cas. Stay. I'm so lonely." She glanced out the window; the sky was growing dark. 

Castiel sat down next to her. "I'm sorry, _le pas enay_. I wish I could be here." He leaned in, brushing a kiss across her forehead. "I can stay for the night. No longer." 

Alex eagerly scooted over. Her bed was only a twin, but they'd manage. She threw back the sheets as Castiel stood up. He took off his trench coat and folded it over her desk chair. Then he lay down next to her. Alex turned on her side as the angel wrapped his arm around her waist. His wing covered her, cocooning her in a soft shroud of navy and black feathers. "I missed you so much," she whispered, wiggling into the warm body.

Castiel kissed the top of her head. "I missed you too." He let out a sigh, murmuring Enochian into her hair. 

Alex slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	58. Into the Nothing

**June 16th, 2010**

**Cicero, Indiana**

**I** t was a month later. Alex was walking down the street, on her way home from Pizza King. She kicked a rock down the street, watching as it bounced into the sewer grate.

"You're Alex, right?" Alex turned at her name. A teenage boy was standing behind her, watching her closely. 

Alex huffed. "Maybe." She flared her nostrils, pausing when she caught the smell of sulphur. She tensed, looking around. 

The boy seemed to notice. "Are you okay?" 

"Of course." Alex raised her good wing defensively. The smell was growing stronger. Maybe she was just paranoid. 

"But you are Alex? I mean, there are not many female angels around here." The boy's voice changed, growing deeper. Alex's heart sank to the floor as the boy blinked, eyes turning black. Then she ran. She could here footsteps following close behind, and she forced herself to go faster. _Damn wings_ , she cursed. _If only they weren't broken, I could fly out of here._ She ducked into an alley, searching for a way out. Above her head, a ladder hung. She jumped, grabbing on to the bottom rung. She began to haul her way up when a hand grabbed onto her ankle, pulling her down. 

Desperate, Alex lashed out, kicking violently. There was another yank, and she lost her grip, falling to the ground. She scrambled to her feet, fist balled. The demon stood in front of her, blocking her way out. Alex flared her good wing. "Go away," she growled. "Leave me alone." 

"I'm afraid I can't to that." The demon's black eyes glinted in the dusky light. "Crowley's been looking for you for almost three months now. He'll be glad I found you." 

Rage boiled in her stomach, but Alex forced it down. "I'm not going anywhere with you." She glanced around for an escape. 

"You don't have a choice." The demon stepped forward, and Alex bared her teeth. He reached out to grab her shoulder, and Alex saw her chance. She ducked under his arm, ramming an elbow into his side on the way through. He stumbled, and turned to face her. "Running's pointless." He stepped closer. "You can't hide from me." 

Alex let him step closer until he was only a few inches away. "Then I guess I'll just have to kill you." She suddenly reached out, placing a hand over his forehead. 

The demon laughed when nothing happened. "You can't kill me." 

"I haven't tried yet." Alex focused on her rage, letting it spill down her arm, pushing her grace along. It exploded into the demon, and his face twisted in agony. Then he collapsed to the ground. 

Alex took a step back, unsure what to do now. She looked down at the body, realizing she couldn't leave it there. Finding little other alternative, she dragged it behind the dumpster before quickly wiping down the ladder, freeing it of fingerprints. Then she ran.

 

**S** he arrived back at her house a few minutes later. Dean's car was in the driveway, signifying he was home. She burst in the front door, breathing heavily. "What are you doing home?" Dean hurried into the front room from the kitchen. He studied her, his face growing deep with concern. "Is everything okay?" 

Alex shook her head. "Crowley found me," she whispered. "No, no, not Crowley. One of his demons. B-but it's okay. He's dead." The words tumbled breathlessly out of her mouth. 

Dean put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. "Calm down." His quiet voice seemed forced, but Alex did as he said. "There are demons? Here?" When Alex nodded, he frowned. "And they're after you."

Alex nodded again. "What am I going to do?" she asked quietly. 

Dean was quiet for a long time, but finally he spoke. “ _You_ are going to go find Bobby. Or Cas. Or anyone else who can help you." 

"You can help me," Alex snapped. 

"No I can't!" Dean spat. "This is my life now, and I don't want any demons messing it up. I have a life, I have a family, and I want to keep it that way!" 

Alex stared at him, shocked. "You have a _family_? Your _family_ is me, Dean. Me, and Sam, and Bobby and Cas." 

"Not anymore." Conflict battled in Dean's gaze before it hardened. "Sam's in the cage, and you have Bobby and Cas. Not me." He turned his back, hurrying up the stairs. Alex followed. "You need to pack, and get out of here as soon as possible." He walked into her room, pulling her backpack out of her closet. He threw it to her. 

"You can't just throw me out!" Alex exploded, throwing the bag back at him. She quieted her voice. "This isn't like you, Dean. We've been through a lot together." When Dean ignored her, her voice grew. "You can't just turn your back on me like this! What the hell am I suppose to do?" She watched Dean start to pack her things, and her heart beat wildly. "Dean!" 

Dean turned to face her. "What do you want me to do?" he snapped. 

"I want you to help!" Alex's voice grew in desperation. 

"I can't help!" Dean spat, throwing her bag back at her. She caught it. “Bobby and Cas can keep you safe. But I have to think about Lisa and Ben too.” His voice cracked in pain. “And they're not safe while you're here." 

"And I'm not safe at all!" Alex felt like crying. She couldn't believe Dean was giving up on her. "Do you know what they'll do if they catch me? It'll be Lucifer all over again." 

"Get Cas to help! He's your mate. He'll know what to do." Dean picked up her phone off the desk and put it in her hand. 

"Cas hasn't answered. I've tried praying to him. He's too busy trying to stop the apocalypse from restarting," Alex protested as Dean dragged her back down the stairs. He stopped at the door, opening it. "I'm not going." Alex crossed her arms. "I'll just wait here for Lisa." 

Dean's eyes flashed fire. "If you're not out the door in the next ten seconds, I will personally call Crowley up here." 

"You wouldn't!" Alex's eyes grew wide. "Dean!" 

"Ten, nine, eight," Dean began to count down. 

"You wouldn't risk bringing the demons here," Alex tried to reason. 

"The _demons_ will leave once Crowley has you. Now get out!" Dean yelled. Alex took a step back, and Dean slammed the door in her face. 

Alex stood outside, looking at the door. She stared at it blankly, processing all that had just happened. She sighed, slinging her bag around her shoulder. She started down the driveway, glancing back to see Dean watching her from the window, arms crossed. She held his gaze, silently pleading for him to let her back in. He shook his head, and Alex closed her eyes. She walked out to the sidewalk, looking both left and right, unsure where to go. Finally, with a visible sigh, she headed to her left, towards town. "How the hell am I suppose to get to Bobby's?" she wondered aloud. 

Digging around in her pockets, she counted whatever money she had. Hundred dollars. Would that be enough? Alex bit her lip, unsure what to do. "Cas?" she called. "Castiel!" She yelled his name, casting a quick glance around. "Where the hell are you, man? Seriously. I need you, like, now." Still nothing. "Cas?" Alex felt panic growing inside her chest. Where was he? Even worse, how was she suppose to do this without him? "Please, Cas. Crowley's after me. I'm running for my life here." She let out a nervous laugh. "Why aren't you here, man? Any day now." She kept walking, but Castiel didn't appear. Alex bit her lip. Looking up, she knew town a few blocks away. Making a quick decision, she decided to take the bus as far as she could, then maybe Bobby could pick her up. 

 

**I** t was a long walk to Noblesville, which was the nearest place with a cross-state bus station. She hurried into the building and walked up to a ticket window.

"Hey." Alex forced a tiny smile. She dug in her pockets for her money. "I've only got a hundred bucks here. How close to Sioux Falls can I get?" 

The woman looked down Alex, surprise and pity in her eyes. "Is everything okay?" 

"Huh?" Alex felt surprised. "Yeah, yeah, I guess. I was just living with my brother, and, well, stuff happened, so I'm going to my uncle. It's safer there." She tried to pull on the woman's emotions, figuring she could use them to her advantage.

The woman frowned sympathetically. "That's terrible," she said. "Let me see what I can do." She looked at her schedule. "Is one hundred all you have?" 

Alex nodded. "Afraid so." 

"Well, I'm afraid that won't get you very far. What were you planning to do after that?" 

Alex shrugged. "Dunno. Probably walk. Maybe someone'll give me a ride." 

The woman closed her eyes out of sympathy, unable to stand the sight of the girl in front of her. ”Tell you what. I can get you to Brandon, Minnesota. It'll cost you ninety dollars." 

"Only ninety?" Alex was surprised. "It should be more than that." 

"Don't you worry, honey. I'll take care of it." 

Alex started to protest, but the woman won't have it. "At least take this much." Alex handed her all her money.

The woman shook her head. "You're going to need some money to eat. I'm afraid ten dollars won't get you very far either." 

"I don't need to eat." Alex promised. "Please. Take it all." 

"No." The woman shook her head. "It'll only cost you ninety dollars." 

"Oh." Alex decided to stop while she was ahead. "Thanks. A lot." The woman handed her back ten dollars, and Alex stuck it in her pockets. "Thanks," she repeated before walking into the station. Looking up at the sign, she saw her bus was leaving in twenty minutes. She sighed, sitting down in a chair. The building was cool, compared to the almost ninety degree weather outside. She pulled out her phone, dialing Dean's number. It rang, but Dean didn't pick up. She cursed under her breath. 

 

**T** he twenty minutes ticked by _very_ slowly. Finally, when her bus was called, Alex boarded it, sitting in the very back. From there, she could see everyone, and nobody sneak up on her. She sighed again. A few more people filed in, Alex slumped down in her seat, looking around warily. She shied away from the window, not wanting to be seen. Thinking quickly, she rifled her bag, pulling out a sweatshirt Dean had thankfully packed. She pulled it on, pulling up the hood. She knew the demons would only recognize her because of her wings, but figured it was worth a chance. She sighed again. 

The bus pulled out of the station, heading down the road. Looking around, Alex examined each of the passengers, scenting the air. There was no smell of sulphur, and Alex deemed the bus demon free. She reluctantly took of her sweatshirt, thankful that the bus was air-conditioned. 

 

**S** he rode the bus for the whole day straight. Thanks to her angel-ness, she didn't have to eat very often, and was able to fast the day. The bus only stopped a few times, letting people in and out, gassing up, changing drivers. Then they were off again. Alex never moved, not wanting to be seen. As the night came, the bus pulled into the station in Brandon, Minnesota. Alex stood up, deciding she had spent enough time on the bus. Then the smell of sulphur hit her nose. Her head snapped up, gazing wildly around. She hurried down the bus' isle, not wanting to be caught in such a small place. She reached the door right as it swung close, and red hot panic flooded through her spine. 

"You wouldn't happen to be Alex by any chance?" the driver asked. 

"Let me go." Alex turned around, glaring defiantly up at the demon-possessed man. 

He laughed. "Can't do that." He started the bus, pulling it out onto the street. "I hope you don't mind. We're going to have to take a little detour." 

Alex froze, terrified. Thinking quickly, she threw her weight against the bus door. It barely budged. She turned back, reaching for the lever that opened the door. The demon reached out to stop her, and Alex yanked him out of his seat. He lost control of the bus, and it veered off the road. Alex ran to the back of the bus, falling to the ground as is ran over a large bump. The bus lost its balance, and suddenly fell on its side. 

Alex fell with it, flailing blindly for a hold. Her hand found a pole, and she held on. The bus flipped, and Alex hit the roof. She scrambled for exit, wrenching open the window. She grabbed her bag and ran. Ran down the road in the opposite direction of town. She saw black smoke billowing up from bus wreckages, and she ran faster, breathing heavily. She tripped, and rolled with her shoulder down the ditch. There she lay, back pressed flat against the hard ground. 

Five minutes ticked by, and nothing happened. Alex finally dared to look. She peered onto the road. Nothing. She sat up, retrieving her bag. She opened it, rifling through its contents. Her phone was still in her pocket, miraculously undamaged. She also found her gun, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, it wouldn't help against demons, but it made her feel safer. She also found the knife Charlie had given to her, and she smiled. Repacking, she stood up, flinching as she straightened her knee. She put her gun in the waistband of her pants. Then she started down the road. 

 

**A** lmost an hour later, she came upon a small motel. Not seeing any better chance, she entered the office. There was an old lady at the desk. "May I help you?" she asked. 

"Uh, maybe." Alex looked around, scenting the air. No sulphur. She paused, trying to appear as helpless as she could. "Um, you wouldn't know of any place I could spend the night for free? I've, uh, been walking for the past couple hours and kind of need a place to stay." 

"Is everything okay?" The woman lowered her glasses from her eyes, studying the girl. 

"Yeah, yeah. I just lost my home and am walking to my uncle's. I spent all my money on buses, but all I've got left is ten dollars." She pulled out the bill. "Is this enough to get a room?" 

The lady let out a sympathetic laugh. "It's nowhere near enough. But it's okay. We have several extra rooms. You can spend the night." 

"Thanks." Alex stepped forward, holding out the money. 

"No, no. You keep it. Free of charge."

"Thank you." Alex reluctantly shoved the bill back in her pocket. She thankfully took the key, and turned to leave. 

"What if someone comes looking for you?" the woman called. "What's your name?"

Alex turned back, her face dead serious. "If someone comes looking for me, you've never seen me. Send them away, and I'll get out of here as fast as I can." 

"Should I call the police?" The woman reached for the phone. 

"No," Alex said all to quickly. "Not even the police can help me. _Please_. I'll leave as soon as the sun rises." Then she left. She quickly hurried down to her room, unlocking the door and slipping inside. She locked the door behind her. Tiredness pulled on her limbs, but she didn't want to sleep. Instead, she sat down on the bed, turning off all the lights. Moonlight filtered through the closed drapes, giving enough light so Alex could see her surroundings. She crossed her legs, senses alert. However, her eyelids were heavy, and her head slipped down to her chest. Within a few minutes, she was asleep. 

 

**"G** ood morning." Lucifer's sing-song voice reached her ears. 

Alex snapped open her eyes. She was back in her dreams. "No." She sprang to her feet, spinning around. "No no no." 

Lucifer's face turned to one of confusion. "Is everything okay?" he asked, approaching her. 

"I need to wake up." Alex ran towards the door. Lucifer caught her by the arm, pulling her back into him. "Let me go," Alex struggled. "I need to wake up." 

"What's wrong?" the archangel asked, looking worriedly into her face. He reached up, cupping her cheek in his hand. 

"I have to wake up," Alex repeated, trying to get away. 

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." Lucifer clamped his hands on her arms, holding her still. Alex gave up struggling, knowing she couldn't beat him. Tears stung her eyes as she realized her position. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey," Lucifer whispered softly, holding her tight. "It's okay." He guided her over to the couch, sitting down. "What's wrong?" He lifted Alex's face, brushing the tears out of her eyes. 

"Oh my god." Alex closed her eyes. "I'm dead. I'm so dead." 

She felt Lucifer stiffen. "What's going on?" His voice grew sharp, full of worry. "Alex. Look at me. What is going on?" When Alex opened her eyes, he continued. "Is someone hurting you?" 

"It's Crowley," Alex whispered. "He's after me. He, he wants to sell me again. I-I've been running. Dean wouldn't help, a-a-and Cas wouldn't answer. I d-don't know what to do." She closed her eyes again. "I need to wake up. He'll find me." 

Lucifer pulled her up against his chest into a tight hug, resting his chin on her head. "It's okay, it's okay," he soothed, running his hands up her back. 

Alex took a shaky breath. "Please. I need to wake up," she said into neck. "Let me wake up." 

"Alex. I don't control that," Lucifer whispered, his breath gently stirring her hair. He paused, then sat back. "But everyone knows you always wake up during the best part of a dream." He pressed a long kiss on her lips. 

Alex broke away. "Not now, Luci." 

The archangel just laughed. "Come here." He stood up, taking her hand. 

Alex pulled back. "I said, 'not now'." 

"I know. But not that. I'm helping." Lucifer ran into the kitchen. Alex slowly followed, curiosity getting the better of her. He stopped, looking around, then ran upstairs. Alex returned to the living room, impatiently waiting. He came back down with several pieces of paper in his hand. 

"What are you doing?" Alex asked. 

He ran back into the kitchen, eyes sparkling. Alex followed. He grabbed a pen off the counter, scribbling something down. Alex leaned over next to him, watching him carefully. "What are you doing?" she repeated herself. 

“ _I_ am helping." Lucifer glanced up at her, a small grin across his face. "Here." He shoved the paper towards her. 

"What is it?" Alex glanced down at the strange drawing. 

"You still have the Enochian sigils on your ribs, right?" Lucifer reached out, placing two fingers on her chest. "Right." He turned back to his picture. "Those use to hide you from all angels and demons. But you're an angel now. It works differently. However, we can still hide you from angels and demons. It's just a little different. It should also hide your wings from demons. " He flicked her wings with the tips of his for emphasis. 

"Uh, yeah. Okay." Alex nodded, not sure where he was going. 

"Here." Lucifer showed her what he had drawn. 

Alex took the pen. "What's that?" 

"This will hide your wings from demons."

"Uh, okay." 

"The demons won't be able to recognize you if they've never seen you. It'll help." 

"How do I get this from here to out there? Should I draw it on something?" 

“Draw it on your hand, your arm. Anywhere. This will keep you safe." Lucifer suddenly froze. "You need to wake up," he whispered. "Something's happening." He pulled her into a quick, hard, meaningful kiss. "Stay safe." Then he was gone. 

 

**A** lex snapped open her eyes. They quickly adjusted to the dark, gloomy room. "Hello Alex." Alex sat up, looking wildly around. They focused on a man standing in the corner of the room. Black suit. Red tie. Strong accent. 

"What do you want?" Alex hissed, springing to her feet. 

"I think you know, love." He wandered closer, a half-filled glass in his hand. "You know, you've given me a hell of a time tracking you down. Wouldn't it have been easier, just to . . . come back?" He shrugged. 

Alex bared her teeth. "Leave me alone, Crowley." 

Crowley laughed. "You know I can't do that. I still have several potential mates for you, and they are offering quite a price." He stepped closer. Alex stepped back. "There's no point in running, Alex. I already know it's just you. Dean turned you away, and if Cas hasn't shown up by now, he's not going to anytime soon." 

"That's not true." 

"Then where is he?" Crowley motioned to the empty room. "If he really cared, would he really let me sell you again?" Alex took another step back. "You can keep running, but you can't run forever. I know you, Alex. Your wing is still broken. You can't outrun us. I will find you." 

Alex ran. She grabbed her bag sitting by the door and ran. The sun was barely coming up, but Alex barely noticed. She just ran. West. She just ran west. Her backpack bounced on her back, making the running awkward, but she didn't stop. 

 

**S** he only slowed when she ran out of breath. Looking around, she ducked behind a gas station, leaning against the brick wall. Then she stood up, reaching for her phone. She pulled it out. The battery was low, but it would last for an hour still. She dialed Bobby's number, waiting for him to answer. The landline didn't work, so she tried his cellphone. It rang. 

"Uh, 'ello?" Bobby answered. 

"Oh, thank god." Alex breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Alex?" Bobby sounded confused. "Is that you?" 

"Yeah, it's me." 

"Is everything okay?" 

"No, not exactly." Alex sat back down, feeling defeated. 

"What's wrong? Is everything okay between you and Dean?" 

Alex actually laughed. "Not exactly," she repeated. "But that's not the problem. Listen, I'm in Brandon, Minnesota? Any chance you could come pick me up?" 

"What?!" Bobby's voice rose into an angry yell. "Alone?" 

"Yeah, alone," Alex sighed. "Can you come get me?" 

"Sorry, girl, but I'm in Montana. Hunting a revenant with Landon. It's only a four hour drive from you to my house. See if you can get a ride, or something." 

"Uh, that's the problem. I have a couple demons on my ass. Cas isn't answering, Dean turned me out. But, uh, I'll see what I can do." 

"Hey. I think Charlie might be in that area. Give him a call." Bobby sounded angry, his voice tense.

"Okay, bye. Oh, and, happy birthday." Alex quickly hung up before he could say anything else. She hurried back into the store. "Hey, question. What's the quickest way to get to Sioux Falls?" 

The guy looked back up, eyes dull. "Don't you have a phone?" 

"Uh, yeah, but it's dead and I don't have the charger or the time." 

The guy sighed. "Head west," he advised. 

Alex briefly closed her eyes. "Thanks." 

She headed down the road.

 

**I** t was her third day on the road. She had already spent almost all of her ten dollars on water to keep hydrated, but her stomach was growling loudly. She checked everywhere for money; she only had fifty cents. Two quarters. Down the road was a town, and she hurried towards it. The first restaurant she saw was a McDonalds. She walked in. There were a few people, but it wasn't overly crowded. She went up to the counter. "How much can I get for this?" she asked quietly, dropping her change on the counter. 

The woman looked down at it disdainfully. "Not much, honey. A fry, maybe." 

Alex closed her eyes briefly. "I'll take what I can get, then." 

"Don't you have anything else?" 

Alex shook her head. "This is all I have." 

"Well, I'm sorry, but it won't get you anything." 

"Is there anyplace I can get food for this much?" Alex's stomach growled, and she was starting to get desperate. "I haven't eaten in two days." 

"Is there a problem?" A young man walked up behind her. "What's holding up the line?" 

"I'm sorry," the woman behind the counter said. She turned back to Alex. "I'm sorry, but fifty cents won't get you anything here." 

Alex closed her eyes, then headed towards the door. "Miss, you forgot your money," the woman called. 

Alex turned. "Keep it. If I can't even buy me food, it's useless." She left before sitting down on the curb, head in her hands. Her stomach was cramping with hunger pains, and she screwed her eyes close. She was only eighty or so miles from Sioux Falls, but right now she didn't feel like she could make it. 

"Excuse me." It was the man from before. "Is everything okay?" 

"Depends." Alex glanced up at him, scenting the air. No sign of sulphur. He looked normal as well. 

"You seriously haven't eaten in two days?" 

"Yeah. It's been a while. But I'm just passing through." 

"Hm. Why don't you come back inside. We'll get something to eat, then figure out what to do next." The man held out his hand, and Alex took it. 

"Thank you." She followed him back into the restaurant. She hesitantly ordered a Big Mac meal, feeling slightly embarrassed for letting him pay for it. He also ordered his food, and he handed her a glass. She walked over to the soda fountain. She wanted soda, but knew if she was going to walk, she needed the water. Soda would only make dehydration worse. She compromised and got coke, deciding to get a refill of water before she left. 

While her decisions were being made, so was her food, and by the time she returned to their table, it was ready. The man, who's name turned out to be Drew, slid her her burger, and Alex picked it up. She forced herself to eat slowly, alternating between the burger and the fries. 

Finally Drew spoke. "So, what's your name?" 

"Alex." 

"Hm. And what brings you to this town?" 

"I'm just passing through." 

"Where to?" 

"Sioux Falls." 

Alex knew he noticed her short, closed answer, but he didn't push her. "Sioux Falls?" he repeated. "Hm. That's what? A two hour drive?" 

Alex nodded. "Just about." 

"Well, you may be in luck. I have to drive down to Sioux Falls tonight." 

"Hm." 

"If you want, I can give you a ride." 

The idea was tempting. Alex finally nodded. "Okay. Where should I meet you?" 

"I'm driving down for my job. If you want, you can just stay at my apartment." 

Alex shook her head. "Sorry. I shouldn't. I, I can't be found." 

Drew's eyes narrowed. "You're not in trouble, are you?" 

Alex lowered her eyes. "It's no big deal." 

"Pretty sure that's a lie. Is it the police?" 

"No. They can't help me. This is a lot bigger." Alex sighed. "If you don't want to give me a ride anymore, that's okay." 

"No, it's fine. How about I'll meet you at the corner of Elm and 2nd, okay? Eight o'clock sharp." 

"Okay." Alex finished her burger, feeling her hunger subside. "Thank you." 

"Yeah." Drew left. 

Alex stood up, refilled her cup with water, and walked out the door. 

 

**June 20th, 2010**

**Sioux Falls, South Dakota**

**A** lex stepped through the front door, breathing a sigh of relief. She must had thrown off the demons. Of course, this is definitely where they'd expect her to be. She locked the front door, cursing the fact that, apart from the downstairs bathroom next to her, it was the only door that locked. Hurrying into the kitchen, she dropped her bag. She placed her Colt 1911 on table, checking it one more time. She felt her knife in her pocket and pulled it out, flicking out the blade. She smiled, putting it back in her pocket. She pulled off her jacket and dirty black _Hell Hazers II_ t-shirt, and pulled on some maroon 3/4 sleeve shirt and a forest green plaid sweatshirt. She had just started rolling up her clothes when she heard a noise, and her mind started to wheel. 

"Okay," she started to plan out loud. "I need salt. Salt, iron. Devil's trap." The panic room. Iron walls coated with salt, and stocked with all the shotguns and ammunition she would need. 

There were two footsteps upstairs. Forgetting her backpack, she grabbed her smaller bag containing her journal and other things and tore through the study and the hall. The back door opened, and a demon stepped through, black eyes gleaming. Alex panicked, and, in an act of desperation, reached out, placing her palm over the demon's face. Her fear and panic mingled with her grace as it raced down her arm and into the demon. White light flared out of his face, and he crumpled to the ground dead. Alex just ran. She ran down the rickety stairs and towards the panic room. She flung open iron door. Then everything went black.


	59. To Be Continued . . .

Okay.

The second installment with season 6 will be coming. However, I still have to write it first, so it will be several months until it will be published. So if you want to stay posted, you can bookmark the second part which is called "I See Fire Hollowing Souls," (name subject to change, haha -- I"m using lines from _I See Fire_ ) which will be seasons 6&7.

"Desolation Comes Upon the Sky" will be the third part with the next to seasons, but that's still a long way off.

Anyways, thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate it, and I'm so glad you enjoyed my writing!

 

 

 

Also, several of the songs that inspired me:

Alex and her internal struggle: _Wrong Side of Heaven_ by Five Finger Death Punch  
_World War Me_ by Theory of a Deadman  
_Close to Heaven_ by Breaking Benjamin

Castiel and Alex: _Angel With A Shotgun_ by The Cab  
_Angel_ by Theory of a Deadman

 _Fallen Angel_ by Three Days Grace

Alex dealing with Cas after Lucifer: _Demons_ by Imagine Dragons

Dean's attempted suicide: _How to Save a Life_ by The Fray

And of course all of the Breaking Benjamin's songs in the album Dark before Dawn, particularly _Hollow, Failure, Angels Fall, Close to Heaven,_ and _Ashes of Eden_.


	60. Hollowing Souls

I've started publishing Hollowing Souls. Just an FYI so you know if you weren't following that story and therefore didn't get an email.

Have a good day!


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